


The Biggest Insecurity

by JustSimpleThings



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Caring Jaskier | Dandelion, Crying, Drunk Sex, Epic Sexytimes, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Self-Esteem Issues, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia has a Small Dick, Hair Washing, Inexperienced Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Insecurity, Like tons and tons of it, M/M, Micropenis, Pansexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Penis Sleeves, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Psychological Trauma, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Small Penis, Spooning, The Witcher Kink Meme, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), mentions of fisting, mentions of pegging, penis extender, romantic smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSimpleThings/pseuds/JustSimpleThings
Summary: Geralt has a micropenis and he is deathly ashamed of it. Enter a curious, open-minded bard who is eager to help our Witcher get over his fears.--This is an Angsty, fluffy, body-positive little ficlet. No cock-shaming happens in this fic!Written for this prompt at The Witcher Kink Meme:https://witcherkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/429.html?thread=483501#cmt483501
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 244
Kudos: 841
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette, Witcher Kink Meme (Dreamwidth), Witcher Netflix Kinkmeme, Witcher Smut





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maruka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maruka/gifts).



Everyone and their mother knew that Witchers were supposed to be hung like a horse.

What they didn’t know was that the mutations could backfire occasionally – as it had happened in Geralt’s case…

So while all other Witcher’s had huge, long pricks that grazed their thighs when they walked, Geralt had been ‘gifted’ with a micropenis instead.

The worst part was that it wasn’t proportional to his body size; his cock looked all the smaller _because_ he had such a well-built, heavy frame.

Geralt's penis was positively _dwarfed_ by his thick, muscular thighs and his average-sized testicles.

Even the appendage itself was a bit strange as far as Geralt could tell – based on the human pricks he had seen when he was pissing outside next to others in tavern alleyways – because the head of his cock was roughly ‘normal-sized’. It was just the shaft that was… practically non-existent. The whole thing couldn’t have been longer than two inches when erect – or flaccid, for that matter. Geralt wasn’t a ‘grower’.

 _It_ was obviously unsuitable for penetrative sex – Geralt had never even attempted to use it for that. When he was younger, he learnt quickly not to go to whores either, because although they would service him – same as they would any other paying customer – rumours would spread quickly, and by the next week, Geralt heard rumours at another village’s inn, whispered among sailors that apparently there existed a Witcher with an abnormally small prick… He had blushed furiously and hid in his room until the sailors had left.

Never, did he ever pay a whore to suck his cock again.

So since then, he had been making do with his own hands – it wasn’t too bad, he supposed. Of course, Geralt had envied Eskel and Lambert, who would brag about having met an exceptionally eager or talented 'lady of the night' – now and then. But really - was it so bad that he was able to save coin this way?

It was for the best- he told himself. Nobody would ever find out about it this way.

(His Witcher brothers knew – of course. Eskel had always been kind about it, and even Lambert had refrained from joking about Geralt’s “assets”… Anything else was fair game, but this _one thing_ , even he didn’t make fun of. They were kind-hearted like that. They knew how damaging and unpredictable the mutations were – had endured their effects themselves – so they knew better than to jest about them… Humans though? Humans didn’t know and if they did – they wouldn’t have cared, in Geralt’s experience. They were quick to ridicule him for the unnatural colour of his hair – so why should this particular trait been any different? No – Geralt had resolved to bring his secret to the grave. It wasn’t meant to be shared. Sex just wasn’t in the cards for him, and that was okay.)

* * *

But then he met a young bard named Jaskier. And he had a way with his words… and he didn’t jest with Geralt, and he never ridiculed him.

Not even about his hair, which Geralt himself agreed was laughable… But Jaskier seemed to think it was lovely. At first, that had made the Witcher even more cautious, because he thought Jaskier was perhaps being cruel: lulling him into a false sense of safety – but he had to concede that the bard truly meant it when he said that Geralt had lovely hair, as he insisted on braiding it and had called it ‘moonlight-starlight hair’, likening its texture to the ‘finest of silks’ (not that Geralt had any idea what those felt like, but he supposed the comment was meant as a compliment).

The most annoying thing about Jaskier was that he insisted on wanting to help Geralt bathe – he loved preparing fragrant bath waters for the Witcher, throwing in it various concoctions Geralt had never heard about (bath oils, bath salts and the like). But Geralt had been adamant that once his bath was ready, he wanted the bard to leave the room, to let him enjoy his bath in peace.

It was actually more for reasons of modesty – he didn’t want to risk Jaskier catching a glimpse of his package and being revolted by it.

But Jaskier was just so stubborn… it was a pain to kick him out each time, although it had to be done.

“Really, Geralt?” Jaskier was pleading with him again, standing next to the steaming tub. “We are both men, -- and although I know you don’t like me in _that way_ \--- I would have hoped that you _knew_ that I view you as my dearest friend first and foremost!” The bard said, making a swooping gesture with one of his hands. “And I am a man of my word – so when I say I simply wish to help you wash your hair, _I mean just that_.” The bard said empathically – and to his credit, Geralt felt no deceit behind his words; as a Witcher he was quite good at detecting lies, so he was surprised to note that the bard seemed indeed sincere in his strange request.

Geralt had no idea what his motivations may have been, if not to gather intel about him.

But before he could say anything, the bard carried on speaking:

“So let me assure you – your virtue is safe with me… Unless you wish to change that.” The human added – _winking_ at him.

“Oh.” Geralt was momentarily shocked out of words at the bard’s blunt admission.

Jaskier had never declared his… intent so – clearly before.

And indeed, although the bard looked nervous as he stood there, waiting for Geralt’s reply, Geralt could smell something else in the air as well – the unmistakable scent of arousal.

Jaskier was scared, but turned on as well… by _him_ of all people?

 _Well_ – Geralt corrected himself internally _– he is turned on by a fantasy of what you **would** look like – not the reality. _

Geralt sighed – of course, this all made sense in a way. Geralt had known that Jaskier fancied men as well as women – he had seen the bard bed enough male lovers to catch onto that fact—and Jaskier was young afterall; he couldn’t have been older than five and twenty. They had known each other for a few years now: Jaskier following Geralt around and insisting on being his ‘travel companion’ and his ‘barker’; of course Geralt should have suspected that the bard was nursing some sort of (misplaced) infatuation towards him…

The hard part was – he was almost tempted to give in.

“Mmh, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, voice becoming a bit shaky now that he was forced to wait for Geralt’s reaction a bit too long.

“Hmm?” The Witcher hummed back absent-mindedly.

“It’s okay, you know?” Jaskier said, shrugging as he looked up at Geralt, slowly, carefully – as he was gentling a spooked horse. “I – I’ve heard the rumours about Witchers being umm.. exceptionally well hung – and I can assure you – that wouldn’t bother me at all –”

Geralt couldn’t help but flinch as Jaskier’s words. Of course, the bard couldn’t have known that he was hitting him right where it hurt the most, but hearing him say _that_ stung nonetheless. Hearing this clearly and tangibly just _how far_ he was from _ever_ being able to satisfy Jaskier – apparently – was… Even more painful than he’d expected it to be.

Jaskier must have misunderstood Geralt’s expression, because he was raising his hands in a protective gesture now.

“Hey – umm! It’s okay—I mean ---” The bard was outright babbling now, his false-confidence gone – which Geralt found strangely endearing. Jaskier cleared his throat: “Ehemm! I understand if you don’t want me to – to write songs about it, or to talk about it, because you don’t want others to know--- And… This might surprise you, but I can actually keep a secret when I want to!” The bard declared earnestly.

The sad part was, Geralt knew that was actually true; Jaskier was able to keep a secret and he was loyal to a fault. He wasn’t afraid of Jaskier sharing his secret with the world…

He was afraid it would turn the bard away _from him_ – and he couldn’t face losing the bard’s companionship... (his friendship...)

There was no way he could explain this to him though.

Jaskier carried on his monologue, oblivious to Geralt’s dilemma:

“And umm. I don’t know what it is that keeps you from acting on what you want –“ He said, biting his lips, but looking boldly at the Witcher as he continued. “Because at this point, I am fairly sure that you _do want me_ , on some level –“

 _You have no idea. -_ Geralt thought bitterly; but outwardly, he remained silent, his face carefully neutral.

The bard’s voice trailed off before he continued:

“But, I just wanted to say --- if it is some kind of misguided sense of _chivalrousness_ ,” He said, putting the word in air-quotes. “That’s keeping you from bedding me, because you’re worried that you may hurt me with your – _monster dick_ , or whatever!”

Geralt couldn’t help but wince at Jaskier’s choice of words.

He was so wrong, and of course he had no idea…

The bard eyed him with a determined expression as he continued: “In that case, I'd like to reassure you that I am sturdier than you’d think, and intercourse is _not_ the only way one can have sex with a partner! I could please you with my mouth or my hands if you’d prefer ---”

“You can’t.” Geralt said, before he could think better of it. _Fuck._

Jaskier looked up at him with a confused, but strangely hopeful expression.

“I can’t…? But – you’d want me to…? In theory, that is?”

Geralt felt his resolve crumbling at the bard’s painfully cautious words.

Jaskier was speaking as if _he_ was the one who had to be afraid of rejection out of the two of them! Which was simply incomprehensible to Geralt - couldn’t the bard see that he was gorgeous?

He was young and handsome and charming – he could have had _anyone_ …!

And yet, for some strange reason, here he was; pursuing Geralt at the moment… Looking at him with a hopeful, wanting expression on his face, as if he was truly eager to touch him – to touch a _Witcher…_

Gods help him, even Geralt had limits to his self-restraint.

“Yes, I want you –“ Geralt ground out, snarling in frustration. “But you don’t understand – I can’t…”

Jaskier was looking at him urgently now, and he was stepping up to him, crowding his space and his senses with his scent – the scent of arousal, of honest want, of relief and… _happiness?_

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Jaskier murmured, stroking his hand along Geralt’s stubbled chin gently, and he couldn’t help but grunt as he nodded. Jaskier didn’t waste another second, as he did just that.

Geralt felt strangely vulnerable as he was kissed. To be fair, he couldn’t remember ever kissing anyone like this. Occasionally, he’d received kisses of kinship from his brothers, or gratitude from maidens he’d saved.

But he had never kissed anyone in passion before.

It was so much more intense than he’d anticipated!

Jaskier was grabbing him by his back and he was pressing him against the wall – the old wooden floors creaking under their combined weight as they almost tumbled over – but Jaskier didn’t seem to care and he didn’t stop, kissing and biting Geralt’s lips gently with his own, making urgent noises in the back of his throat, and his hand kept trailing along Geralt’s torso, exploring, rucking up his chemise to stroke Geralt’s taut stomach and his chest, scraping over one of his nipples…

Geralt felt himself growing rock hard in a matter of seconds. He was fairly sure he could have come within minutes if he could have gotten his hands on himself.

But he wasn’t willing to even entertain _that_ idea with Jaskier here – even if he didn’t remove his trousers, if Geralt were put his hand down his drawers and there would have been no visible bulging, Jaskier would have _surely_ realised something wasn’t right…

So instead he panted and grunted in helpless pleasure as Jaskier continued his ministrations – teasing a peaked nipple with one hand, while he caressed Geralt’s nape with the other, pulling him firmly into the kiss…

And then suddenly, Geralt was groaning, because Jaskier had sneaked one of his thighs between his legs, and he was pressing it against Geralt’s crotch– and Geralt should’ve been _mortified_ that the bard may feel the lack of his girth...

But the sensation of his cock and balls being smushed was glorious, and he felt drunk on the bards' kisses and caresses - so he couldn’t convince himself to push Jaskier away…

“Ah! Geralt,” Jaskier panted against his mouth. “Should we…? Wouldn’t it be nicer to do this on an actual bed?”

The mention of getting into bed rang the alarm bells in Geralt’s head. Oh fuck-fuck-fuck – how was he getting out of this? He had clearly aroused Jaskier – he could feel and smell the bard’s desire. He would have to deal with this, or else…

He dropped onto his knees, raising his hands to undo the laces of Jaskier’s breeches… (He could only hope that Jaskier would be satisfied with a blowjob, although Geralt had never given one before – )

He was scrabbling at the laces, but they just wouldn’t give and he could feel his face burning and his breaths were starting to come quicker...

“Hey-hey!” Jaskier said, stroking the top of his head softly. “Slow down – there is no hurry…”

Geralt felt himself flush in shame, but he couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit relieved at the bard’s words.

He finally managed to untie the laces and he was taking the bard’s cock in hand. Jaskier’s breath hitched.

Oh fuck. He had a beautiful cock… The head was a similar size to Geralt’s, but otherwise, Jaskier’s prick was completely different – it had a long, thick shaft and it was nicely curved… And it fit perfectly inside his palm - he loved it immediately.

He had only ever received a handful of blowjobs in his life – all of them from paid professionals, many-many years ago. Geralt had never been on the giving end before, so he could only hope he remembered the basics right, as he took the tip of Jaskier’s cock carefully into his mouth.

“Oh- oh, Geralt... fuck!” Based on Jaskier’s pleased moans, he was doing okay, and that emboldened Geralt. He started to take Jaskier's cock him deeper and deeper into his mouth, while he was working the sensitive underside with his tongue, keeping a firm grip on the base of the shaft with his hand...

It was all going great - until he slipped, and one of his molars got caught on the side of Jaskier’s cock. The bard hissed in discomfort.

Geralt pulled off immediately, feeling absolutely mortified.

“I’m sorry!” He muttered, turning away. “I’m so-so sorry- I’ll – I’ll go—”

“Go where?” Jaskier asked in confusion, gripping his shoulder when the Witcher tried to slip away. “Geralt it’s okay! I’m not mad at you – it was clearly an accident…”

But Geralt just felt all of the day’s anxieties catching up with him, and he couldn’t help himself as he shook his head in protest.

“Fuck! It’s not right – you deserve better! I – I don’t know how to….”

“How to what?” Jaskier asked back gently.

“I don’t even know how to suck cock, damn it!” Geralt retorted angrily, lashing out.

To his surprise, instead of leaving, Jaskier leant even closer to him, hugging him gently from behind.

“Geralt – oh, Gods – I’m so sorry! If I’d known this was your first time, I’d have been happy to help… or even better - show you how to do it by sucking you off first—but sweet Melitele, you seemed so confident! Ripping my trousers off like _that_ – I'd thought –”

Geralt felt bitterness seeping into him at the bard’s apologetic words.

“You thought what I intended you to think. I didn’t want you to know I hadn’t done this before.”

“Well okay – but why pray tell --?”

“Because I wanted to distract you, okay?” Geralt retorted, his tone becoming downright nasty now – which the bard had definitely done _nothing_ to deserve –

But he couldn’t help it: he was bitter because his cover was blown. Any hope of keeping Jaskier around was evaporating fast because of his own stupidity; because he dared indulge himself in the bard’s attraction – and for what?

All he had to show for it were a few short minutes of kissing and groping – and he may lose Jaskier now forever, whereas if he’d have refused the bard’s advances, at least they could’ve stayed friends….

He was angry at himself, for making a _poor_ choice – but there was nothing he could do now to fix this.

“Distract me –“ Jaskier repeated his words, shaking his head. “I’m starting to feel a broken record here, Geralt – but – _why_?”

He may as well tell the truth, he supposed.

“I wanted to distract you from bedding me… because then – you would have tried to undress me.”

Jaskier gave him a look as if Geralt was being particularly dense.

“Umm – _yes_ , that’s how sex usually works! Both parties need to get undressed in order to do it—”

“You don’t understand,” Geralt said tiredly. “I didn’t want you to _see_ _me_.” He specified, making a gesture towards his own crotch. “I’m not like the other Witchers…”

This was it – the moment of truth…

He wasn’t afraid of the bard telling the world about his secret – he had just told him that he wouldn’t, and Geralt actually believed him, Gods knew why –

So why was it so hard to say _the words_?

The only thing he stood to lose because of them was Jaskier’s physical attraction to him… And that shouldn’t have mattered – it wasn’t based in reality anyway – Jaskier was just attracted to what he assumed Geralt, _the Witcher_ would look like – hung like a horse and all…

Geralt steeled himself, although he resolutely did not look at the bard as he continued:

“The mutations, they… had caused a sort of defect in me. An unintended side-effect, I guess… like my hair colour…?”

He chanced a look towards the bard to check if he was listening, and he was surprised to see that he was indeed, intensely focused on him.

“Yes - and?” Jaskier asked, clearly uncomprehending.

Geralt felt himself swallow.

“And… it stunted my growth – down there.” He felt bile rising in his throat, but he forced himself to say the dreaded words. “The rumours are true. Most Witchers are... very generously endowed… But for me – it’s the opposite… It’s… it is very small.” He was almost whispering by the time he got to the last few words.

He didn’t know what sort of reaction he’d been expecting, but Jaskier gently brushing his hand along his back and pulling him into a soft embrace wasn’t among them.

“Oh, Geralt… I- I get it now… why – you didn’t want me to see you naked– was it because…?”

Geralt nodded, grateful that he could avoid Jaskier’s gaze by burying his face into the bard’s surprisingly firm shoulder.

Jaskier’s voice was soft as he spoke.

“I – I understand if you don’t want me to – to look at you or touch you, but I want you to know that – I truly don’t mind… whatever size you are, it’s fine by me.”

“You don’t mean that.” Geralt said reflexively – his words muffled by Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Pardon me?”

“You don’t mean that!” Geralt repeated what he’d said, a bit louder this time. He felt irrationally annoyed at the bard at the moment. “Spare me your simpering consolations and your attempts at _sympathy_ – I’m fine! I’ve had a life-time to get used to it – I’ve accepted this as part of me, and I don’t care what you think or what anyone thinks!”

Damnit , this wasn’t good, he was definitely shouting now, and Jaskier had flinched away...

Geralt let him, disentangling himself from the bard’s embrace - trying to ignore the fact that it felt wrong.

He forced himself to put some distance between the two of them.

“I don’t care if you’ve changed your mind about bedding me," He snarled at the bard. "Just say it! And spare me your fucking _pity_ – ‘cause I don’t need it!” Geralt spat, looking at Jaskier with open contempt.

There was deafening silence in the wake of his words.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The link contains an NSFW picture of a penis (linked word: 'his little cock').

Jaskier was looking at him with a pinched expression and he was silent for a long while before he spoke.

“Geralt – would you hear me out, please?”

The bard’s voice was soft as he spoke, and Geralt felt a wave of guilt hit him… He had been so gruff with Jaskier just now, and yet here the bard was: still speaking in a calm, even tone…

The Witcher didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded.

It seemed like a weight had been lifted off Jaskier at the other’s reply, and he perked up.

“Good! Good – that’s great- thank you!” The human bit his lower lip in a contemplative gesture. “I hear that you seem to be under the impression that I wouldn’t want to bed you unless you had a -- _large enough_ – umm- appendage. Did I hear that right?”

Geralt felt stunned at the question, - Jaskier was talking about this as if this wasn’t all self-explanatory – but finally decided that there was no harm in indulging Jaskier, if he wanted to talk… Geralt could at least grant him this wish.

He nodded.

“Hmm,” Jaskier frowned. “Okay, well – I don’t know where this idea came from, but – well, surely, you know that I enjoy bedding women as well, and -- they don’t have cocks at all---"

“I am _not_ a woman!” Geralt hissed, feeling hurt at the comparison.

“I know that!!” Jaskier shot back immediately – albeit not unkindly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “My point was that if I am okay with sleeping with women, who don’t have cocks at all – surely, it should logically follow that I would be okay with a partner who had a – cock on the smaller side?”

Geralt shook his head.

“That’s different – you sleep with men to get fucked – do not deny it, I could smell it on you.” Geralt said matter-of-factly. “And I – I couldn’t offer that.” He hated how small his voice sounded, but he looked at the bard with a defiant expression – how would he refute _that?_

Jaskier’s brows furrowed.

“Well – that’s only partially true – I’ll let you know, I do enjoy fucking my partners as well. Furthermore, you seem to be under the impression that one needs a flesh-and-blood cock to fuck somebody, and – well, I’ll let you know that -I had been fucked by women – with their fingers, and on one particularly memorable occasion, with a prosthetic cock, which was delightful!” Geralt was surprised to see that the bard was flushing at the memory. “But I’ll also let you know that I have seen a great number of cocks as you may know and I’d wager I had seen ones that are similar in size to yours, or even smaller – you’d be surprised!”

“Cocks come in all shapes and sizes, and well, I am more interested in –“ The bard looked up at him with an uncertain expression. “Does it give you pleasure?”

“ _What?_ ” Geralt asked back unbidden.

Jaskier was looking at him calmly, jovially as the repeated his question with more detail this time:

“Do you get pleasure from using your cock? From touching it? Can you orgasm from it? Does it get hard?”

Geralt felt a pang in his chest. If he didn’t know Jaskier, he would have thought that the bard was mocking him now, because – what sort of questions were those? Weren’t all cocks capable of those things?

But as he looked at the bard’s face, he could see no deceit; only earnestness and a pinched worrisome look.

It certainly looked like Jaskier was being serious – so although it was hard, he took a deep breath and entertained the bard’s question.

“Yes - to all of those.”

To his surprise, Jaskier nodded. “Thank you for clarifying that for me. And may I ask – how often do you like to do that – if at all? Because there is no shame in – some people aren’t all that interested in matters of the flesh---"

Geralt was getting lost in the bard’s words again, so he decided to interrupt him, so they could get this over with.

“I wank myself off daily. I thought that was normal.”

Damnit – he was sounding a bit gruff and defensive -yet again..

Thankfully, Jaskier remained calm as he replied.

“Indeed, many people do that, but it also isn’t uncommon for people to do that multiple times a day, or once a year.” Geralt couldn’t help but stare at that – _once a year?_ How was that possible??! “– We’re all different.”

Jaskier finally looked up at him and – to Geralt’s indignation – he broke out in laughter.

“Oh- sorry-sorry!! Just… your face! Umm – I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this shocked before!”

That was a fair point, Geralt would wager, so he just hummed in acknowledgement.

As Jaskier stopped chuckling, it seemed like the tension of the previous minutes had evaporated from him. He was looking at Geralt with a strange – almost fond – expression on his face.. which Geralt had seen before, but it usually appeared when they were going to sleep, and he’d always assumed that it was a side-effect of sleepiness—

Except this time, the bard was clearly awake _and_ looking at him like that…

“Geralt…” Jaskier said softly, biting his lip again. “I don’t know what sort of bedpartners you’d had the misfortune of meeting before, but I – please give me a chance, to prove them wrong… to show you that… It is possible – we could do so many things, there are so many options!” The bard was babbling now, free and unbidden – but there was a passion in his words that Geralt admired and he couldn’t help smiling as he listened. “We could use toys, our hands, and our mouths… And of course, I would only ever do anything if you would like to try it as well! – I’m – I would be okay with it if you wouldn’t want to try _certain things_ …”

Geralt felt curiosity pique him in the wake of those words.

“What things?” He asked.

To his surprise, Jaskier blushed and he looked sheepish as he looked up at Geralt with an uncertain but determined expression.

“Well – I can think of a great number of things I’d like to try with you – only if you were amenable, of course!” The bard was actually squirming now, and Geralt felt himself relaxing as the watched the other’s struggle.

He smirked.

“I am listening.” He said in a purposefully controlled voice.

Jaskier shot him a dirty look and he huffed.

“Gods, you are evil! Well – I guess I knew that already… Hmphf!” Finally, he seemed to have gathered his courage as he looked up at Geralt. The Witcher felt a chill run down his spine at the barely concealed hunger he saw in Jaskier’s gaze. “I didn’t want to share this, because – I don’t want to scare you off.”

Geralt almost snorted at that – scaring a Witcher? Fat chance of that!

But as he was held by Jaskier’s gaze, he was beginning to understand that there were – potentially- things this young man knew more about than he did – and the idea of that… the danger in it – sent delicious shivers through his body. Geralt had always loved a challenge.

Gone was the initial coyness. Jaskier looked confident and self-assured as he continued:

“Hmm – you like that idea, humm? Does it excite you – knowing that I could show you things you’d never even heard about?”

To his mortification, Geralt felt his breath hitch.

Jaskier caught onto that and he chuckled.

“Hmm, that’s right! I could ruin you… I would – fuck, Geralt, I want to show you pleasure you’d never even known existed!”

“H-How?” Geralt asked, feeling hot and tight in his skin.

“How, you ask?” Jaskier repeated his question slowly, purposefully. “Well – to start off – had you ever been penetrated before?”

Geralt shook his head.

“That’s not an answer – give me a proper reply.” Jaskier said, smirking.

“No,” Geralt said, swallowing in the wake of that simple word.

Jaskier didn’t miss a beat.

“And would you want to?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Geralt replied without hesitation. That idea had always been… appealing to him – it’s just… he couldn’t muster up the courage to ask any of the whores when he was young – and then, he hadn’t had a partner since then… he’s tried with his own fingers, but those weren’t very satisfying and the angle was all wrong, so although he could feel a pleasurable spark on one or two occasions, he’d decided it wasn’t worth the hassle and he’d stopped trying…

But _ohhh_ – if it was somebody else doing that to him – if it was Jaskier’s fingers, instead of his own ---

Geralt felt himself growing hard in his breeches again… His erection – that had wilted as soon as they’d stopped kissing was coming back with full force.

He looked up at Jaskier through dark, heavily lidded eyes – and he was surprised to see that the bard wasn’t unaffected either, if his scrunched up expression was anything to go by.

Jaskier’s voice was a full octave deeper when he spoke again.

“Oh Gods, Geralt! I had – never even dared to imagine that – that you may be interested in – letting me fuck you! Gods, the things I’d do to you… I would want to suck your cock and tongue your balls… while I would use plenty of slick, and I would open you up on my fingers –“

As Geralt was listening, he couldn’t help himself anymore, and he slipped one of his hands inside his drawers – and Gods, the feeling was divine – Jaskier was watching him, but even that was pleasant somehow—

“Yes, that’s it! Touch yourself,” Jaskier said, goading him on, before he continued. “I would open you up, stretch you out - slowly, very slowly – until your were loose and pliant… Until you would be _begging_ to be fucked –“ Jaskier was breathing heavier now, but he spoke on nonetheless. “And then, and only then, would I feed you my cock – had you ever been fucked before?”

Geralt felt himself flush, but he kept wanking himself slowly as he replied.

“No – never…”

“Never?” Jaskier replied, voice breathless. “Not even with the fingers of a talented whore?”

Geralt shook his head. “Only my own – and it wasn’t – I am not good at… the angle wasn’t right…”

“Oh ffffuck, Geralt,” Jaskier hissed. “Gods, I want to ravish you… _Please?_ ”

Geralt looked up in shock at the sudden gentleness behind the bard’s words.

“Please, Geralt – will you let me show you - how much I want you?”

Geralt felt icy trepidation run through him. And despite himself, he sighed.

“But what if you won’t like it – once you’ve seen me?” He said, palming his cock subconsciously (which was thankfully well-hidden inside his breeches).

Jaskier looked sad, but his voice was still kind as he replied:

“Oh, Geralt – trust me: you cannot disappoint me.”

The bard was smiling very slightly and he looked so painfully sincere – Geralt was truly looking at him this time, looking to detect even the smallest signs of dishonesty – but he saw none.

Whether Jaskier was right or not, it seemed that he truly _believed_ that Geralt’s cock couldn’t disappoint him.

 _I hope you’re right – for both of our sakes_ – Geralt thought bitterly – but he nodded.

“Okay,” The Witcher said slowly, evenly. “Okay – let’s try this then. But first- may I take a bath?” He asked, looking at the still somewhat warm bath water longingly.

“Oh Gods, I’m so sorry!” Jaskier replied hastily. “Yes, yes! Sure, you can...” Suddenly, he seemed to hesitate. “May I stay here with you and help wash your hair – if I promise I won’t look at your cock? Because I’d really really like to wash your hair… I’ve been longing to do that for ages… you know I _love_ your hair…”

“You can look.” Geralt said with a boldness he didn’t feel. “You’ll see it up close soon enough anyway.”

Jaskier seemed profoundly serious as he returned Geralt’s gaze, nodding slowly.

“I _will_ look then – in that case. Thank you, for trusting me with this.”

Geralt nodded, because he didn’t know what to say to that. It seemed ridiculous to make such a big deal about looking at another’s cock… but then again, his cock had caused him a lot of anguish, so he guessed it made sense that he was reluctant to show it.

Jaskier turned suddenly. “I’ll get the servants to bring you some hot water…”

“That won’t be necessary.” Geralt said.

He stepped closer to the tub, holding his hands just over the surface and he used _Igni_ repeatedly in short and then slightly longer bursts. Once his hands’ temperature was warm enough, he could dip them under the water’s surface and the fire would turn the water around his hands into steam, heating the water through quickly, from the inside out.

“Oh wow!” Jaskier muttered, looking at him in awe. “Geralt, that’s – amazing!”

Geralt shrugged. “You’ve seen me light camp fire before.”

“Yes, but I haven’t seen you use it this much and I had no idea it was this powerful that it could warm water!” Jaskier said in a clearly awed voice. “That’s _amazing_!”

“Hmmm.” Geralt said in acknowledgement, feeling strangely self-conscious but warmed by the praise as well.

Usually, he disliked warming water this way – because it required a great deal of focus and it was a waste of energy, really – but this time, he almost wished the process would take even longer, because while he was at it, he could bask in Jaskier’s adoring gaze…

Which was sure to disappear once he would actually get inside the water.

Regretfully, at some point, he had to stop heating the water, because it was beginning to become uncomfortably hot – even for Geralt’s superhuman senses.

Jaskier seemed aware of the magnitude of the moment as well.

“Umm, may I watch you undress?” The bard asked. “Or would you rather – ?”

“Yes, you can.” Geralt replied, cutting the other’s question short.

He began undressing himself, the way he usually did – just ripping his clothes off of himself, really. His he got rid of his chemise, then his breeches and his socks, and finally he was left standing in front of Jaskier in his drawers…

And there came the hard part. If he was alone, he would have just pulled those down and stepped right into the tub, but with Jaskier looking – _watching_ – …. The manoeuvre suddenly seemed much harder than it should have been…

He used one hand to pull his drawers down, while using his other one to keep his private regions hidden. He could feel that he’d gone soft while he was preparing the bath water and the realisation filled him with sudden shame – his cock was going to seem even smaller now that it wasn’t even erect anymore…

“Geralt,” Jaskier called, softly, slowly. “It’s okay… I would like to see you…”

Geralt nodded – he knew that, damn it! But the urge to hide – to cover – was so ingrained…

It felt almost physically painful to lift his hand away from his cock finally.

And then he was standing there in front of Jaskier, [his little cock](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/69/Micropenis.png) on full display.

He waited with baited breath.

To his surprise, he didn’t have to wait long for Jaskier’s reaction.

“Oh, Geralt, that’s – beautiful!” The other said, voice thick with feeling. “Really, truly! You have a beautiful cock!”

“Are you being serious?” Geralt asked hesitantly, still caught in disbelief.

“Yes, I am!” Jaskier replied instantly. “Gods, Geralt!” The bard said, stepping a bit closer to him. “May I – may I touch it? I won’t work you up before your bath, I promise, I would just - I would _really_ like to---”

He gestured towards his cock with his hand carefully.

Geralt nodded. If that’s what Jaskier wanted to do…

Maybe he wanted to test if it felt as _small_ as it looked…

He was surprised again, when Jaskier took his cock in his hand and knelt down in front of him, so his face was in eye-level with Geralt's prick.

“Mmmh, I love how fat the head of your cock is! It’s so plump and ripe… It makes me want to put my mouth on it…”

“Go ahead then.” Geralt said, hoping to call the bard’s bluff ( _because he must have been bluffing, surely…_ ).

He hissed when suddenly his cock was engulfed in the wet _heat_ of Jaskier’s mouth.

The Witcher looked down in shock and awe.

And indeed – that was Jaskier’s mouth on him, and the bard had a blissful expression on his face as he suckled at Geralt’s still soft cock – which was twitching with interest now at the pleasant sensations.

Jaskier pulled off with a sound ‘pop’.

“Hmm, it’s just as lovely as I thought it would be.” He said, wiping his mouth as he stood up. “I hope I can get acquainted with it better later, but for now—let’s get you into the bath, hmm?” He said, motioning towards the tub.

And Geralt was indeed fully intending to do that, - until about a minute ago - but now…

It truly felt as if Jaskier had fried his brain.

The Witcher was standing there, rooted to the spot in shock and surprise… and painfully, he was also aware that there was something else bubbling up inside of him too – relief, joy, _sadness_ , _happiness_ … all wrapped into one…

To his mortification, he could feel tears springing to his eyes, because this was – unbelievable!

That Jaskier could… that _any_ lover could… _accept him_ as he was…! 

He'd never thought this day would come... much less with someone as perfect and kind as Jaskier...

Suddenly, there was a hand on his back, urging him into a gentle hug.

“Shhh, it’s okay, my love… it’s okay…”

Geralt bit into his lip to keep himself from making any embarrassing sounds as silent sobs racked his body.

Jaskier continued soothing him gently, rubbing careful patterns over his back as he held him. He let Geralt bury his face into his shoulder again, so he didn’t feel as exposed.

Geralt was surprised to note that he had almost forgotten about his nakedness by the time the tears had run their course. He just felt sated and calm, standing there in Jaskier’s tight embrace.

“Come on, Geralt, the warm water will feel lovely.” Jaskier said, withdrawing his arms gently so Geralt could move. He nodded hastily, stepping into the tub without problems.

The water was just the perfect temperature and he sighed in pleasure as he let himself sink into it, lowering himself in slowly.

Jaskier dipped a finger into the water, and he chuckled. “Oh wow, that’s _hot!_ You really do like your bath water scalding, don’t you?”

Geralt smirked. “Witcher mutations.”

“Ahh,” Jaskier nodded in understanding. “You can take higher temperatures than an average human can – makes sense.”

The bard turned away, going over to his pack to retrieve some supplies –shampoo, or soap perhaps. Geralt felt himself relaxing in the water, noting with some bafflement that he didn’t even feel the need to cover himself with his palms anymore. Well – Jaskier had seen all of him now, hadn’t he? And he was still here.

Which was good.

He got that far in his reasoning before Jaskier was back. He grabbed a smallish jug and filled it with water before he urged Geralt to tip his head forward so he could wet his hair.

It was as nice as he had imagined it would be. Jaskier was careful and considerate; his fingers were deft and clever as they worked the shampoo into leather in his hair, massaging his scalp gently, with the barest pressure, that felt just right.

Geralt was in a blissed out state during the whole duration of the process. Finally, Jaskier rinsed his hair out for the second time, then smoothed some oil into it, rinsed it again, and declared his work finished.

“Right then!” The bard said, standing up. “I will leave you to enjoy your bath in peace…”

It was on the tip of Geralt’s tongue to say: _you don’t have to go… I just used to say that so you wouldn’t see **it** …”_

But Jaskier cut him off.

“Because I have some preparations to make, if we are going to have sex tonight – if that’s still okay for you?” He asked, looking at Geralt intently.

 _Oh. Right._ Geralt nodded.

The bard smiled in relief. “Good! Well, in that case, I'll go have a quick wank now, because otherwise I am not even going to last long enough to put the tip of my cock into you – never mind fucking you with it _thoroughly_ as I intend to do…”

Geralt shivered at Jaskier’s words, because _that_ …

Hmm, yes, that sounded great.

The bard seemed to have caught on to the effect his words were having on him as he smiled slyly.

“Yes, indeed! I will devour every inch of you before we are finished tonight… So you may wish to touch yourself as well - to take the edge off...” Jaskier said with a saucy wink.

 _Oh fuck._ The way the bard was looking at him was positively sinful.

“See you later, Geralt!” Jaskier said in a cheery voice as he left the room.

“Fuck.” Geralt muttered, when he was sure that the bard was out of earshot.

The bard was going to ruin him…

Gods, Jaskier had him wrapped around his little finger and they hadn’t even had sex _yet_ …

 _But they were about to_ – his mind supplied unhelpfully. He shook his head.

Shouldn’t he have been worried about handing over so much power into the hands of to somebody else? – he wondered. 

_But Jaskier isn't just 'somebody'_ \- a little voice whispered back in his head.

Geralt sighed.

As he came out of his musings and looked down at his lap, he was surprised to note that his cock didn’t seem to care one way or another; it was jutting - small but proud - between his legs, clearly begging for attention.

He decided there was no harm in doing as Jaskier had suggested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! :) So here we are, getting there slowly but surely. I'm sorry there is still no actual Smut in this chapter, but it will come in the next ones, I promise. 
> 
> Thank you for all your lovely encouraging comments and for all the Kudos! ^^ <3 I love hearing that you are enjoying reading my work as much as I'm enjoying writing it.
> 
> The next chapter should be up within a day or two! ( hit me with a comment if you would like to read on sooner;)


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt was fully intending to masturbate when Jaskier had left the room, leaving him alone in the tub.

But then… his mind was quick to wander.

He was reminded that they were going to do things… after this – that included Jaskier having a closer look at his cock. And his arse.

The idea of being penetrated didn’t scare him, but he felt an anxious anticipation running through him at the thought. After all, he had never tried putting anything larger than a single finger up there… and Jaskier’s cock was a whole lot longer and thicker than that! Geralt knew now…

He wasn’t surprised to see that his erection had wilted a bit – he was only at half-mast now. He could still have brought himself to orgasm fairly quickly, but the desire was gone, for now – which was fine, he reasoned. He was supposed to enjoy himself when he was with Jaskier – during the sex they would be having, soon. If he was a bit desperate, all the better.

Geralt noted with dismay that the water was cooling fast, so he used a few more bursts of _Igni_ to remedy that, before he grabbed the soap that Jaskier had thoughtfully left there for him (as he always did), and he set about washing himself.

He tried to calm himself as he let himself fall into the familiar rhythm of bathing, going over the usual motions: washing his neck, his ears, his arms and armpits – and then lifting his feet out of the water to give them a throurough scrubbing as well…

But then when he got to the part where he had to stand up – to wash his shins, his thighs and his backside – then he was reminded of just what they were going to be doing with Jaskier. He felt himself blush at the thought. He ought to try and clean himself, he figured. But how?

He took the soap – it was the honeyed orange one; one of Geralt’s favourites – and he worked it into a thick lather between his palm before he put the soap aside.

He started by cleaning his cock and his balls: making sure to pull the foreskin back, so that there was no residue of sweat left anywhere. He did the same with his balls, washing them gently but carefully.

And then, he reached further to wash his perineum, and his hole. He felt extremely self-conscious as he was doing this – which was silly, this wasn’t anything he didn’t do on a regular basis! –

But… It felt different now. _Knowing_ that he wouldn’t be the only person to that part of himself tonight… (Something he’d thought would never happen…)

That made it different.

He tried to push his embarrassment aside as he set to the task of washing _that_ area of himself as well… He went slow and he used plenty of soap. He noted with some disappointment, that he was rather hairy back there (as he was everywhere else) and he wondered if that may make the experience less appealing to Jaskier.

Geralt wasn’t an expert at this sort of thing, but he knew from walking around humans that women who had less body hair were generally seen as more appealing…

And thinking back of his few encounters with whores, he remembered noting with surprise that some of them had _less_ hair between their legs – as if they had been trimming it- and there had even been one who had shaved hers off _completely._

And even the ones who didn't trim it... certainly did _not_ have hair as thick and coarse as Geralt's was.

No – their bush had been soft and silky... Luxurious...

But he… Well, he was a man.

 _Jaskier likes men_ – he reminded himself. _It will be fine._

The reasoning was sound and logical, and yet – it didn’t calm his fluttering heart at all, he noted with chagrin.

Geralt forced himself to re-focus at the task at hand – he sat down and rinsed himself, washing the soap off his neither regions thoroughly. Then he took the soap again, making sure to coat his hands in creamy lather, and then carefully, he kneeled down, so he was bracing himself over the edge of the tub. The position was perfect, because his arse was out of the water this way, and he could reach behind himself…

Carefully, he prodded a soapy finger against his entrance – he was surprised to find that he was more tense than he had ever been – _fuck… figures!_

Thankfully, the soap was slippery, which made it easier to push a finger in, even though it burned slightly as he pushed it in – probably because it was a tight fit. Despite the discomfort, Geralt could feel himself shudder and he felt arousal pool between his legs again at the feeling of being _forced_ to open up, of being penetrated by something that didn’t strictly belong in there…

He was quick about cleaning himself: pushing his finger in a few times and then using plenty of water and pushing his finger back in again, to make sure he cleaned out the soap as much as he could.

That would have to do.

Work done, he sat back into the tub. The water had cooled considerably now and Geralt could feel himself shivering slightly at the drop in temperature. Although he had no desire to get out – and have to face Jaskier – he had to concede that staying in here any longer just wasn’t feasible… Jaskier may worry.

He got out of the tub and dried himself off with the towel left by the chamber maid.

It was time to head back to their room. Geralt could feel his heart was pounding as he made that short distance from the washroom to theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet update for today! The next one will be longer, I promise :) 
> 
> (This fic is quickly growing more and more feelings and it's turning out to be a novel... It's gonna be six chapters long at least, that's for sure now!)
> 
> Thank you soooo much for all the lovely comments left on the previous chapter!! :') I can't thank you enough - you are the best! <3


	4. Chapter 4

Jaskier was sitting on the bed and he looked up at Geralt when he stepped in, dressed in nothing but a towel around his waist.

“Hey,” Jaskier greeted him softly. “I tried to stoke the fire a little bit, but it’s still pretty cold in here, so you’d do better to get under the covers if you don’t want to freeze your balls off!”

Geralt scoffed, but he did as Jaskier had suggested, getting into bed next to the bard. He realised a moment too late that he had kept himself covered out of habit; but it was too late now. He discarded the damp towel once he was tucked in and comfortable under the duvet.

Jaskier seemed slightly nervous as he glanced in his direction.

“Umm, Geralt, I… I’ve thought about this a wee bit while you were in the bath and I just wanted to say: we don’t _have to_ do anything if you don’t want to…” The bard said, stressing the words carefully.

Geralt could feel icy trepidation run through him at the insecurity he could hear in the bard’s voice, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Jaskier had changed his mind afterall…?

(Maybe he realised he didn’t want to bed him…? Because who would want to, really… that wasn’t exactly a surprise…)

Strangely, next to the fear and disappointment, Geralt could also feel some irritation bubbling up in him at the thought: because here he was, he had exposed himself to Jaskier; at the other’s insistence, no less – amidst his constant reassurances…

So for Jaskier to withdraw his offer _now_ \-- that truly stung, biting into him deep with icy tendrils of self-deprecation… 

He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice as he replied:

“Changed your mind afterall?” He drawled, smirking at the bard.

Jaskier frowned.

“What are you talking about?” Suddenly, his expression changed and he shook his head. “Oh for Melitele’s sake – no, no I haven’t changed my mind: _yes_ , I do want to sleep with you – please get that through your thick skull already!”

“Hmm.”

Geralt sagged at Jaskier’s reply, and he couldn’t help the relieved little sound that escaped him – but he did his best to conceal it as a simple hum of acknowledgement, so hopefully Jaskier hadn’t noticed…

(Gods, it felt ridiculous… worrying so much about the other’s intentions… He shouldn’t have let it affect him -- )

“No,” The bard said, looking at him intently. “I meant – I felt bad because… Well!”

Jaskier paused, scratching the crook of his elbow self-consciously.

“I had clearly taken the initiative and I’ve told you that I wanted to umm… have sex with you – with... you being on the receiving end – and it only occurred to me in retrospect that that may have given you the impression that I think you should _always_ be there; which is not the case at all--” The bard rambled out in one breath. “Because I- I would be happy for you to fuck me with your cock --- or with anything else you’d like to use on me, for that matter---!”

The bard kept rambling on, but Geralt had tuned out by that point.

He couldn’t help but frown at Jaskier’s words. Again, if he wasn’t giving the other the benefit of the doubt, he would have thought the bard was joking or – worse, that he was ridiculing him…

Because _surely_ , Jaskier didn’t truly think…?

“What do you mean?” Geralt asked warily. “When you say I could fuck you with… my cock? You say that as if it was possible – but it isn’t.”

It was Jaskier’s turn to frown.

“Well, why _wouldn’t_ that be possible, pray tell?”

Geralt gritted his teeth, feeling humiliated at the prospect of having to talk about this – something he hated to be reminded of himself -- but he forced himself to answer calmly, because _apparently_ the bard _was_ just this _thick_ …

“It’s too short for that,” He said as matter-of-factly as he could. “There’s—there’s no way, I could --”

“Yes, you _could_!” Jaskier interrupted him with vehement certainty. “That’s – Geralt, even if you haven’t tried that before –“ The bard faltered, hesitating. “Or maybe you have, just-- ? Well, anyway: yes, there are positions which help maximise the ease of penetration with any partner – so you _could_ fuck me, if you wanted to-- ”

Geralt felt all the irritation catching up with him, turning into white-hot anger at Jaskier’s thoughtless words.

“I don’t want to fuck you, when there is no way I could _ever_ satisfy you!” He snapped at the bard. “Stop suggesting that, _damn it!”_

There was shocked silence in the wake of his words.

Jaskier looked pained as he replied.

“But Geralt—why --- where is this coming from? What makes you think I couldn’t be 'satisfied' with--? By you?”

Fuck the bard for looking so miserably honest.

Geralt sighed, feeling his ire evaporating, leaving him feeling truly wretched.

“There’s no way a cock as small as mine could feel good. And I – I hate the thought—” He felt himself gritting his teeth and his hands were squeezing the blanket way too hard, but he forced himself to continue – resolutely _not_ looking at Jaskier. “I hate the thought that you would have to – _endure_ 'that' for my sake… If you weren’t enjoying it – _that_ would be worse than never trying at all.”

He said finally, because that was the simple truth of the matter: Geralt would rather have lived out the rest of his days without ever attempting to use his cock that way, than to have to live with the _shame_ and the inadequacy he would doubtlessly feel _if_ he disappointed a partner… a lover… _anyone…_

He shuddered at the thought...

 _Especially_ , if that someone was Jaskier.

Jaskier whose opinion mattered; Jaskier who was a good friend and a nice person and who was always caring, nice and kind to him - even on his bad days…

No - he couldn't deal with that.

There was silence between them for a while, and then Jaskier reached out, putting his hand gently on top of Geralt’s. The Witcher looked up and he was surprised to see that Jaskier was smiling at him.

“Geralt, that’s… with all due respect, that’s the biggest horseshit I’d ever heard in my life… to think that you couldn’t _‘_ please me’ that way… Well, I’m sure we’ll find a way.” Suddenly, the bard shuddered, his gaze turning darker. “And- I mean – just from having seen and _touched_ your cock, I can tell you that… Yes, it may be on the shorter side, but girth wise? Mmh, it’s… I would definitely _feel_ that…”

_Oh._

That was a new thought. Geralt had never even considered that…

A second later, he frowned.

“But is that any good, if it isn’t long enough to – reach...?” He asked softly, aching with uncertainty, because… While he desperately wanted to believe Jaskier... The prospect was terrifying at the same time.

It was terrifying to even _entertain_ the thought that maybe his cock wasn’t completely useless as he’d always thought; because then it would have been all the more painful to have to revert to that, if it turned out that Jaskier _was_ mistaken after all ---

Geralt was pulled out from his musing when Jaskier squeezed his hand softly.

“Geralt, umm… there is no way to tell, really, without trying, but… that place, that feels good for a man when they are being penetrated? Umm, it’s not that deep inside – your penis should be plenty long for that!…”

Geralt’s doubt may have shown on his face, because Jaskier huffed.

“I mean that! And in any case, you may have noticed that—well, your penis doesn’t just end where it’s jutting out from your body visibly, it’s actually longer than that; it continues inside and we can capitalise on that, in certain positions-- it’s just a matter of finding the right angle…”

“Hmm…” Geralt hummed sceptically.

The hard thing with Jaskier was – because he was so nice, sometimes it was hard to tell if he was being earnest or over-enthusiastic… and overly confident.

Jaskier seemed unperturbed.

“So anyway. I was wondering… what would you rather do today?”

Geralt swallowed to clear his throat.

“Anything. Everything… Don’t care.”

When Jaskier shot him an annoyed glare, Geralt shrugged, feeling self-consciousness creeping back into him.

“Whatever you’ll give me…”

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier said, in a strangely gentle voice. “That’s exactly the problem! I would give you _absolutely_ anything! I have been waiting for this moment for such a long time…”

“You have been?” Geralt asked back, unbidden.

“Yes!” Jaskier replied, a bit sheepishly, but without hesitation. “I have wanted to have sex with you since… pretty much since I’ve met you! But I thought you didn’t like men, - either that or you didn’t like me in particular, -- because, well! – You never caught any of my hints, nor did you react to my flirting –”

_Oh._

“I thought you were like that with everyone.” Geralt said reflexively.

“Hey, _rude!”_ Jaskier shot back, chuckling. “Hmm, although… okay, I take your point. But… it was different with you…” The bard said, looking at him with a strangely earnest expression. “It has… always been different... with you.” 

“Different - how?” Geralt asked, feeling himself tensing in anticipation of the reply. Preparing for fight or flight – which one, he didn’t know yet.

To the Witcher’s surprise, the bard sighed and he looked torn before he finally spoke.

“Geralt, you know that I consider you my closest and dearest friend… Plus, if my memory serves, I have just expressed it to you an hour or so ago that I find you very attractive, including all your parts… Surely, you can put two and two together? See how this is different… as opposed to how I feel when I sleep with someone I had just met?”

“This would be more… complicated?” He guessed.

Jaskier sighed.

“If by complicated you mean _meaningful_ , then – yes – yes, much more complicated, I suppose…”

Geralt didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed silent.

After a few awkward moments, Jaskier shrugged and returned to his usual cheery persona – although Geralt could see that there was some leftover tension in the bard, he decided not to comment on that. Jaskier didn’t like to be called out on faking, and he wasn’t trying to anger or alienate him afterall.

“Well anyway!” Jaskier said in a much lighter voice. “I suppose… I’ve told you all I wanted to say now, so umm – “

Geralt didn’t let Jaskier finish that sentence, cutting him off instead with a strategic kiss. Mainly, the kiss was supposed to help shut Jaskier up but it also did wonders for his libido, Geralt had found.

“Oh Melitele!” Jaskier hissed when he managed to pull himself away for a sip of fresh air. “That’s very good – keep going---”

Geralt didn’t need to be told twice: he kept kissing Jaskier, using one of his hands to divest the bard of his breeches and small/clothes while he was doing that. He hesitated a bit, but finally he ducked his head down, lowering it until his mouth was hovering just inches away from Jaskier’s exposed cock.

“Tell me if I do anything wrong,” Geralt said. “I’ll try—”

“You weren’t doing anything wrong!” Jaskier said soothingly. “It’s just – go slower; take your time, and then you won’t have to worry about your teeth… use your lips instead—just like that!” The bard finished the sentence abruptly, groaning as Geralt took the head of his cock between his lips.

He tried to do as Jaskier had said and go slow… even though every instinct in him was screaming at him to go faster, to be rough… because he felt self-conscious of Jaskier’s gaze on him… the bard just kept eyeing him as he was acquainting himself with his cock. Thankfully, the novel feelings and sensations helped: Geralt tried to tune out and focus on the smell and taste of Jaskier’s cock; on the silky texture of his skin in his mouth and on his lips…

He moaned in pleasure and helpless arousal – and at first he was mortified, but then Jaskier swore and his cock twitched…

“Fuck- yesss, Geralt! Yes, that’s – ahh! That’s perfect… mmh!”

Geralt guessed he must be doing allright apparently, and he felt the tiniest bit smug that he had been able to reduce the usually eloquent bard to curses and hums.

He was surprised when suddenly, Jaskier came – flooding his mouth with his seed, hips twitching and bucking in abandon.

“Oh fuck -I’m so sorry, I meant to warn you, -- fuck! You don’t have to swallow that-- -“

Geralt didn’t even understand it at first what Jaskier was referring to; he had swallowed the seed as soon as it had hit his tongue, his body working on reflex. It would have felt wrong not to do so…

But fuck, was he not supposed to do that?

“Hm, I’ve swallowed it already- I'm sorry,” He admitted, looking away awkwardly.

Jaskier gaped at him.

“You’re sorry---? What?? No-no-no, you don’t have to be sorry, _I_ should be sorry! It’s common courtesy to warn whoever is doing the sucking, because.. well, there are many people who dislike the taste or the texture of ehm, semen…”

Geralt frowned. “Oh – okay.” After a second’s hesitation, he shrugged. “It was fine. I like the way you smell anyway.”

He realised it a bit late that perhaps he shouldn’t have admitted to that, but by then it was too late.

“What??” Jaskier said in a high voice that could have almost been called a ‘squeak’. “You like – my smell?”

Geralt felt himself flush, but he tried to appear aloof.

“Hmm. Yeah, it isn’t bad- for a human…”

That was the understatement of the century: Jaskier smelled amazing. The bard smelled of his fragrant oils and herbs and soaps, and most notably: himself, which was a very pleasurable masculine sort of aroma that Geralt had long come to associate with peace, comfort and warmth – so of course Jaskier smelled good, to Geralt’s nose. He smelled fantastic. Geralt didn’t want him to know that though…

Jaskier smiled triumphantly.

“A-ha! So I do smell nice! All that sniffing around me…. Maybe you had liked my smell all along!”

 _Of course. –_ he thought, but outwardly, he just gave a slight shrug.

Jaskier still had a lazy, pleased expression on his face, although it started to darken and look more – hungry, as he shifted himself to lean over Geralt.

“Hmm, I wonder what I could do to return the favour?”

“Hmm.”

Geralt felt slightly nervous again, as the bard started pulling the covers down to expose him, and he found himself cupping his cock, hiding it reflexively behind his hands – again.

He grunted in frustration and forced himself to lift his hands deliberately, granting the bard access to the view.

“Well, hello there!” Jaskier murmured as he leant in to nuzzle his face against Geralt’s half-hard cock. “Mhh, you smell delicious as well… you used my soap, didn’t you?”

Geralt nodded absently, feeling his arousal returning now that Jaskier’s mouth was so close to his genitals again – and the bard wasn’t showing any signs of wanting to flinch away or withdraw…

“Fuck!” He cursed as Jaskier took his cock into his mouth abruptly, again. The bard hummed around his cock, sucking on it and slurping around it loudly.

Geralt also noted with some surprise that Jaskier’s ministrations didn’t seem to focus solely onto his cock: the bard had also wetted his hands with his spit and he was using that to massage his bollocks, which were heavy from anticipation – and also because he hadn’t had an orgasm in quite a few days now.

He groaned as Jaskier licked his way up the sensitive underside of his cock, and then repeated the motion, starting even lower this time, laving his balls before moving higher, taking the tip of his cock into his mouth, and then massaging it with his lips…

Jaskier would set a rhythm and Geralt would get close to coming, but then he would slow himself down on purpose, leaving Geralt desperate and aching for more…

The third time it happened, Geralt couldn’t help himself and he groaned in frustration:

“Please, Jaskier! I need to come!” He gasped, breaths coming in short little pants as he was nearing his peak again.

“Again?” Jaskier asked, smiling. “But you just came while you were in the bath, didn’t you?”

Geralt felt himself flushing with embarrassment at the memory, but he shook his head.

“No- I didn’t--!”

Jaskier looked at him in surprise. “Oh! Oh—okay, then – I won’t tease you much longer, just… are you okay if I try putting one of my fingers in you?”

Geralt really didn’t understand why Jaskier was asking that—when he had agreed to the suggestion of Jaskier fucking him with his cock just an hour ago, but he nodded anyway, hoping that it would get him the results he wanted: for Jaskier to put his mouth back onto his cock…

“Hand me that vial! From the bedside table—” Jaskier ushered him, pointing towards it.

Geralt grasped for it blindly and managed to find the small vial which had some sort of viscous fluid in it -oil, apparently – and handed it to Jaskier.

“Thank you!” The bard said, smirking mirthfully as he made a show of uncorking the vial and pouring its contents all of his hands and then even tipping the rest over Geralt’s cock…

Fuck, whatever this oil was, it was lovely! It was nearly scentless, but the consistency was heavenly: it felt like liquid velvet all over his cock and his balls… and when Jaskier eased a careful fingertip over his opening, Geralt hissed at the sensation; it felt so soft and inviting…

But Jaskier didn’t push his way inside as Geralt had anticipated it —instead he just left his finger _there_ , resting against his opening, never exerting even the slightest pressure. The bard focused on Geralt’s cock instead. He used his slicked hands to stroke Geralt’s cock skilfully, while he lowered his mouth over his balls, and took them into his mouth, sucking and tugging on them ever-so-lightly. The dual pleasure of having his cock stroked and his balls licked was fast becoming too much and Geralt tried to signal to Jaskier that he was about to come, although all that came out was a strangled groan—but Jaskier seemed to have understood it and instead of retreating, the bard’s ministrations became even more intense – and then suddenly, his finger was pushing into his hole, meeting hardly any resistance, Geralt too lost in the pleasurable haze ---

He came in wild, explosive bursts: his back arched and body twisting: trying to get away from the stimulation when it got too intense, but also trying to push back into it when it started to retreat.

When he came down from his orgasm, Geralt was surprised to note that Jaskier was still there and his finger was still inside of him. He clenched around the digit experimentally, and he was surprised to find that it didn’t feel uncomfortable in the way his own usually did.

Jaskier was looking at him through heavily-lidded eyes.

“Mmmh.. I thought we could carry on if you like? You could stay as you are, and I could start preparing you for my cock… get two of my fingers up there and fuck you with them, until you’ll be begging for more…?”

Geralt closed his eyes and hissed, feeling himself pulsing around Jaskier’s finger, in an echo of his earlier orgasm.

Jaskier most have noticed his reaction because he gave an awed little sound.

“Ohhh, my, look at that! Look how eager your virginal little hole is! If I didn’t know any better, I would think that this isn’t new to you… but I know it is… and fuck, does that do things to me…! Knowing that I’m your first,” Jaskier said looking up at Geralt darkly, and the Witcher felt himself swallowing at the threatening edge in the bard’s voice. “Oh, yes… I might just keep you to myself. What about that? You could be my own personal fuck toy: I would be the only person you could have… So you would always have to come to _me_ if you wanted to have something in your arse… Would you like that?”

“Yes,” Geralt uttered- as if he was voicing a dirty secret, knowing that his face burning hot with shame, but feeling unable to stop himself. 

Jaskier purred in contentment.

“ _Mmmmh,_ wouldn’t that be nice! Well, let’s see if it can take more...”

True to his words, Geralt could feel another finger pressing up against his opening – the way eased by copies amount of slick partly from the lubricant and partly (Geralt realised with mortification) from his own ejaculate, which was drooling down the sides of his cock.

The fit was a bit snugger this time, but it was nothing Geralt hadn’t felt before: he had managed to fit two fingers inside himself in the past and his own fingers were much wider than Jaskier’s.

“That’s beautiful,” Jaskier murmured, stroking the inside of his thigh gently. “You are doing so well. It has slipped in so easily! Makes me wonder what else I could fit up there…”

Geralt felt himself blushing with embarrassment, but also arousal, at that comment…

And that reminded himself of Jaskier’s earlier statements. What did the bard say…? That they could use fingers, but also… toys? Did the bard have toys he intended to use on him – another time maybe…?

Geralt lost himself in his pleasure hazed thoughts and he didn’t even notice that he was hitching himself back onto Jaskier’s fingers, until the bard put a firm hand onto his hipbone, stilling him.

“That’s okay – you can move, but let me do the work… That’s it…”

Apparently encouraged by his movements, Jaskier picked up the speed of his thrusts, -- and his other hand was on Geralt’s cock ( _when did it get there?_ ) and it was stroking him in counterpoint with the rhythm of his fingers thrusting inside of him – which felt maddening and perfect. Although he just came minutes ago, Geralt could feel himself climbing towards another climax with record-speed. If only Jaskier kept this up…

And he did. But he also didn’t, because instead of sticking to one rhythm as he had done earlier, this time around, Jaskier was careful to alternate the tempo and the direction of his fingers inside Geralt: switching from long in-and-out strokes to the barest of twitches and what felt like side-to-side or gentle circling motions…

Jaskier wasn’t kidding when he promised that he would make him beg to be fucked, Geralt realised. He was getting close to begging and it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes into this yet…

He was getting close to another orgasm, so he let himself relax, allowing the pleasurable sensations to build in his body, bringing him higher and higher, warmer and warmer, a pleasant tingling spreading through his toes…

And then Jaskier stopped.

Geralt thrust himself down on the fingers inside of him, trying to chase that sensation.

“Don’t stop!” He grunted, snarling.

“Oh well that’s no way to ask somebody… where is the magic word?”

“Shut up and fuck me!” Geralt ordered in what he hoped was a dark and menacing way.

It didn’t work on Jaskier.

“Hmm, well, okay, I guess that counts as begging technically!” The bard huffed, chuckling. “Just a second, let me just slick my cock up… Would you mind flipping over?”

Geralt turned onto his stomach as Jaskier requested without a second’s hesitation.  
He was happy to do anything to get the bard to fuck him already at this point.

And then finally, mercifully, he could feel Jaskier’s finger pushing into him again – checking, searching.. perhaps testing if he was ready? ( _please, please just get on with it already..._ ) And then he could feel something larger and smoother than Jaskier’s fingers pressing against his rim…

He tensed a little bit in anticipation, but the head of Jaskier’s cock still slipped in eventually—millimetre by careful millimetre. It was a tight fit, but once it was inside, Geralt felt relieved – it should be easier from here…

Well it wasn’t apparently because as Jaskier continued pushing inside, truly penetrating him, Geralt’s muscles began to protest and he flinched in discomfort. Jaskier stopped moving immediately.

“Oh – is it too much…?”

“Just… go a bit slower.” Geralt hissed between gritted teeth.

But then suddenly, Jaskier shifted his body a little bit – being mindful not to move his cock at all – and that changed the angle, so the head of Jaskier’s cock was pressing against a different place and everything became easier.

“You can move now,” Geralt grunted. And then he repeated it again, because Jaskier wasn’t doing as he’d asked. “Move…! _Fuck!_ ”

Jaskier pushed himself in the exact moment when Geralt began swivelling his hips backwards… causing Jaskier’s cock to be seated to the hilt in one abrupt – but not unpleasant – thrust.

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” Jaskier groaned, panting. “Are you ok--- ?”

“Yes, I am,” Geralt said, moving his hips experimentally, to try and find that angle again… and he did.

“Fuck!” Jaskier swore, resuming his thrusting with more purpose now…

They moved in tandem – fucking and getting fucked in turn. Suddenly, Jaskier sat up, and began to thrust into Geralt like that.

“Let me just try and find…”

“What..? Hmmphf!” Geralt groaned and shuddered as the sensations became more intense than before.

“Ah, there!” Jaskier called triumphantly, continuing his shallow thrusting at the same angle as before. “Reach underneath yourself – I - want you to come first—”

Geralt did as he was told, reaching underneath himself to grab his leaking cock. The moment he wrapped his palm around himself, he could tell that he was close – but strangely, the pleasure wasn’t focused solely in his cock as it usually was when he masturbated; rather, it was radiating from the place where Jaskier was moving inside of him, fucking him slowly and perfectly, and the pleasure Geralt could feel from touching his own cock was just a nice addition that was helping him relax as he allowed himself to focus on his orgasm building deep inside of him….

He found himself arching his back, hoping to grant Jaskier better access – and it seemed to have worked because the bard’s thrusts gained speed and momentum, fucking him with deep, forceful strokes that were just on the edge of pain and pleasure…

“Fuck – fuck, Geralt – I’m going to come! Come -- ! Oh -fuck!!” Suddenly, Jaskier groaned, and his hips stuttered, but he kept on moving, thrusting through his orgasm – and finally, a little later, Geralt reached his peak as well and he was coming and coming and coming, crying out in abandon…

It ended as suddenly as it began, and Geralt noted with slight disgust that he was still holding his now-limp cock, along with a handful of cooling semen... and his front was all sticky from the time he came earlier: drying come mingling with fresh come…

“Fuck,” He muttered, as he wiped his hand off on the sheet (which was stained and ruined already anyway), pulling it out from underneath his body to lie more comfortably.

“Mmh, indeed,” Jaskier replied. dreamily. “I’m going to pull out…”

Geralt grunted in assent, and then hissed at the strange sensation of Jaskier’s cock sliding out of him. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just weird and ticklish in his current over-sensitive state.

“Mmh, just wait there, I’ll get you a damp cloth…”

He didn’t bother to reply and explain to Jaskier that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere- except to sleep. He was exhausted after a long day and an even longer evening… so all he wanted to do now was to sleep and rest..

Jaskier came back and helped Geralt clean himself before they both settled in under the covers, with Jaskier spooning Geralt. The fire had gone out a while ago so their room was cooling rapidly – therefore Geralt supposed it was acceptable for them to sleep like this – just this once…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sex had happened!!! WOOHOO! <3 
> 
> Anddd there will be more sex in the coming chapters! :) I have quite a few ideas about how to continue this and it will only get more adventurous from here. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought :) And thank you very much for reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5

After they had slept together, Geralt noticed that there was a definite shift in Jaskier’s behaviour.

Almost one day to the next, the bard grew twice as touchy as he was before; he kept trying to feel Geralt up all the time now; if Geralt was bending down to pick something up, Jaskier would swat at his arse lightly, or he would pull him in for a quick hug sometimes for no reason…

Thankfully, he was more discreet in front strangers – he behaved as before when they were out and about in public. But if they were on the road and there was no one else around? Gods have mercy, Jaskier was touching him, stroking him, _petting_ him…

And that was bad, because the more often it kept happening, the harder it was _not_ to lean into the touches; to appear unaffected.

How was he supposed to pretend that they were just friends fucking, when Jaskier was nuzzling him at every turn… almost like one would do with a lover?

(The thought was silly of course- Geralt had never known Jaskier to have been in a relationship with a man. For all he knew, the bard preferred women (like the Countess de Stael).)

Another strange thing was that the bard propositioned him for sex regularly now… and he kept insisting that they should switch and that Geralt should fuck him with his cock…

Which terrified Geralt.

The anxiety he had felt before he had let Jaskier fuck him for the first time was nothing compared to the nervousness he felt at the thought of doing _that_ to the bard.

So far, he had been able to avoid it: by offering hand jobs, blowjobs… they had even tried the famous ‘sixty-nine’…

And just a few days ago, Jaskier had insisted that Geralt should try fingering him – something he was reluctant to do because he worried so much about hurting Jaskier inadvertently.

But Jaskier couldn’t be persuaded.

“Just try it! You know how I usually do it to you – just do the same!”

“Couldn’t you use your own fingers?” Geralt had asked warily.

Jaskier gave him an amused glare at that. “Well, answer me this: do you prefer _my fingers_ , or your own?”

Oh… well.

The bard nodded smugly. “Exactly! Now come on, I’ll tell you what to do and it’s gonna be great! I’ve been itching to be filled for weeks now—”

And okay that- that comment did it. Geralt felt indignant possessive rage fill him at the thought of Jaskier “itching” to be filled – what if he didn’t comply? Would the bard have found another man to fuck him…? (Or maybe a woman or a whore, perhaps?)

_No!_

Even the thought of Jaskier sleeping with anyone else was infuriating!

So if he had to do this to satisfy Jaskier – to keep him to himself – he’d do it.

And surprisingly, it hadn’t gone badly. Jaskier was very satisfied if his moans were anything to go by, and he came in five minutes flat. And then Geralt continued – as Jaskier would usually do for him – and made the bard come a second time, until he was begging him to stop, because he was getting over-sensitive in the wake of orgasm.

That had felt good. It was gratifying to know that he could satisfy Jaskier this way… at least…

Although that may not be enough.

He felt a strange sense of fear grip him at that thought, but he did his best to push that aside; to enjoy the quiet moments of the afterglow, as Jaskier pulled him closer, snuggling into him.

At least he had this – for now.

* * *

He did everything he could to dissuade Jaskier from wanting it – but it seemed more and more hopeless.

At first it was easy to distract him by offering his arse up for the taking instead; but after a few times, Jaskier wanted them to swap. So he had agreed, and proceeded to finger the bard senseless under the guise of ‘preparing’ him for his cock.

Jaskier had stopped asking for it for a while. The last time this happened, there was something odd and pinched in the bard’s expression and his body language – Geralt couldn’t put a finger on what it was exactly, but something just seemed off.

Then eventually, one night, when they were staying in Novigrad – taking a short break from living on the Path – Jaskier made them sit down in there room after they’d had dinner. Geralt immediately knew that it was bad news.

“Geralt… could we talk, please?” The bard said, with a decidedly weary expression on his face.

Geralt didn’t deem that with a reply.

“I’ve noticed that… you don’t want to fuck me, it seems. And umm – I wonder…” Jaskier trailed off, letting out a small sigh before he continued: “Is it because you find me too… _loose…_ down there?” He asked softly, gesturing towards his neither regions. “Because, well – I know you’re hardly my first partner - as you know so - umm… I understand if that bothers you… Is that it?” Jaskier had tensed up and he was resolutely not looking at him.

Geralt was too shocked to reply.

To his mortification, Jaskier nodded, smiling slightly.

“Well – umm! Anyway, I was thinking – if that’s what’s holding you back… Well – you _should_ be free to experience what it is like to fuck somebody with your cock, and if you’d rather not do that _with me_ – “ The bard flinched slightly, giving a half-hearted smile. “Then… I wouldn’t begrudge it if you wanted to find another partner to do _that_ – someone younger perhaps…? Less experienced?”

 _Younger than Jaskier??_

Geralt felt wordless dread flood him at that particular suggestion, and he finally found his voice:

“ _What the fuck_ are you talking about?!”

Jaskier had stopped babbling at Geralt’s furious tone and now he looked… almost scared? For all intents and purposes, the bard was looking at him as if Geralt had kicked him…

 _Fuck…_ this was going poorly… very poorly… But fuck – he needed to correct Jaskier, because he was being an idiot…

Geralt forced himself to take a deep breath and he lowered his voice consciously before he spoke again.

“What are you talking about, Jaskier? You’re making no sense--“

“ _I’m_ making no sense?” Jaskier retorted, crossing his arms. “Okay, so you tell me: why do you recoil as if… as if you’re _disgusted –_ every time I offer myself to you??! Hmmm?! If it isn’t because of me…”

To Geralt’s mortification, although Jaskier looked angry, there were also unshed tears in his eyes now – Geralt ached to reach out to wipe them away from the bard’s eyes – but what right did he have to soothe, when it was he who had inflicted this hurt on him? Even if it was an accident…

He settled for reaching out to put his palm onto Jaskier’s thigh – in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“Jaskier, I – no it’s… I’ve told you I’m worried about doing that with you, because I’m worried I won’t be able to--! To make it good for you!” He said quickly, trying not to dwell on his words, so they hurt less…

To his surprise, Jaskier gave him a sceptical look.

“Well, excuse me, but I’m not buying that – because for one: I’ve already told you in no uncertain terms that I don’t care if it's not perfect- I _want_ to try it!– And secondly because I keep _fricking_ offering it to you over and over -- so SURELY, you must have understoof that _I’m interested, damn it!!”_ Jaskier retorted, gesturing and swearing colourfully.

“That’s not the problem!” Geralt ground out, feeling frustrated himself now.

“Then what IS the problem?” Jaskier spat back, looking truly annoyed now.

Geralt felt the tension in his neck and shoulders increasing to an almost intolerable degree and he was conscious that he was gritting his teeth – he was angry and furious, but also… what else could he say? He had explained his reason for not wanting to fuck the bard - it was because he worried he would lose Jaskier if the bard realised that he couldn't satisfy him in that way...

Was Jaskier not listening, damnit??

He was startled from his fuming thoughts when Jaskier nudged him carefully.

“Hey? Geralt – talk to me, please…? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what to say. That’s wrong.” Geralt snapped, still feeling on edge. He shook his head. _Fuck, he needed to get out of here…_

He stood up and was about to leave when he saw Jaskier’s forlorn expression, and he sagged.

“Jaskier… I – could I just do a round around the inn? I want to check on Roach, that’ll clear my head…”

Thankfully, Jaskier perked up at his words, giving him a small smile.

“Okay, umm – that sounds good – and umm- could you maybe get me a mug of mulled wine while you’re at it?”

“I’ll get you a pitcher.” Geralt said, smirking at him softly.

Jaskier chuckled in delight. “That’ll be great! Thank you.”

Half an hour later found them sitting next to the fireplace in their room, sipping on their respective mugs of mulled wine. The wine was actually quite low on alcohol, as far as Geralt could tell – but it clearly pleased Jaskier, so it was worth it, even if the price was exorbitant…

“Hmm, this is lovely,” The bard said, sighing in contentment.

Geralt felt dread fill him as he geared himself up to say what he needed to say.

“Jaskier, I am… sorry, for… for shouting at you earlier. And I’m sorry that I gave you the wrong impression… I – don’t think there’s anything wrong with you –“

He noted with slight amusement that Jaskier had blushed at his words, and that helped Geralt relax a little bit as he continued:

“I’m just… I’m worried that this is going to be a disaster… and that I’ll lose you.”

“Lose me?” Jaskier asked back without missing a beat.

Geralt winced. That was poor wording: losing implied _having._ Oh fuck…

“Hmm, I mean – Jaskier, I … I value your - friendship - more than I can express with words... I value what we have, and I wouldn’t want to— Hmm...”

He trailed off, not knowing how to say what he wanted to say without fucking this up even more—

Jaskier’s voice was strangely thick as he interrupted him:

“Is that all this is to you? _Friendship…?_ ”

Geralt looked up at the bard to judge his reaction, and he was shocked to note that Jaskier had recoiled and (if that was even possible) the bard was looking half his actual body size now, with the way he was sitting: hunched, hugging his knees tightly to his chest, head lowered and avoiding Geralt’s gaze…

But fuck – what could he say to that?

“What… what would you like me to say?” He asked cautiously, keeping his eyes trained on the bard.

Jaskier scoffed, smoothing a stray strand of hair away from his forehead.

“What does that matter? What _I_ want doesn’t change a thing!” He looked up at Geralt with strangely sad eyes. “We wouldn’t be here if that had any impact…”

Geralt frowned. “Where would we be…?”

To his surprise, Jaskier shook his head, withdrawing from him – and shuffling even further away from him, Geralt noted with dismay.

“Fuck!” The bard cursed loudly. “No – Geralt, don’t make this even harder on me, please! Just… just tell me what you want!”

Geralt felt something breaking in him at witnessing the insecurity in the bard’s voice and his body language.

Fuck it.

“You.” He said, simply. “I want you.”

Something seemed to uncoil in Jaskier at hearing those words – and Geralt was ridiculously relieved to see that _finally_ , the bard was looking at him again, and he seemed less tense than he was a few moments ago.

“You mean that?” Jaskier muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

Well, it was too late to go back now - and he didn’t want Jaskier to retreat from him, again…

“Yes –“ He said, swallowing heavily, trying to tamp down on the feelings that were threatening to engulf him. “Yes, I want you…”

And then suddenly, Jaskier was on him: the bard was kissing him. It reminded Geralt curiously of their first kiss – except that this time, it was all less urgent. The kiss was soft. It was more about re-acquainting and reassuring than consuming as it had been back then.

It ended sooner than Geralt would have liked and Jaskier was looking at him with a strangely sombre expression.

“I- I don’t know if I can do this, Geralt… I don’t know if I can… if I can love you fully, because – I… I’m so scared that you’ll change your mind… I was ready to let you sleep with other people if you’d have said that would please you – but if you say you don’t need that… Gods, if you say you don’t need other people…”

“Of course I don’t!” Geralt scoffed, interrupting the bard, but he just continued on.

“If you don’t… Then that means you’re saying that you truly _want_ _me_ and that’s – that’s scary because… well, I thought you only wanted me because – well, I’m not a bad lay…” The bard scoffed, biting his lip. “But – the way you looked at me just now, it… _Is_ there more to this…?”

Geralt felt caught out, and strangely vulnerable.

“Don’t make me say it, Jaskier – please…” He said slowly, softly.

Hoping Jaskier would understand…

“No, Geralt.” Jaskier said gently, but firmly. “There have been enough misunderstandings between us – I need a clear answer here. Let’s set this clear once and for all: firstly, do you want to fuck me – and by that I mean penis-in-the-arse sex – with your own cock and nothing else?”

Geralt felt himself smirking at Jaskier’s convoluted explanation – only the bard would describe the act in such painstaking detail to ensure they were thinking of the same thing.

“Yes, I do.” He said.

“Than why didn’t you say that before?” Jaskier asked, but then seemed to correct himself: “Better yet- why hadn't you done it yet?” The bard asked, lifting a brow at him meaningfully, as if he thought Geralt was particularly thick... 

Geralt felt his stomach tense at the question, filling with anxiety in anticipation of the bard's reaction, because... well - he had already explained this once today and it wasn't enough then - so why would it be any good now? 

But he supposed he could try... perhaps if he worded it better... 

His voice was even more strained and raspier than usual when he finally spoke:

“Because I was worried it was going to complicate things between us if… If you didn’t enjoy the sex. It would be... awkward.”

Jaskier frowned. “Well, frankly, I’m insulted that you still hadn’t understood it that I want _you_ \- cock included! And… we can figure everything else out as we go.”

Geralt tried to believe the bard, although it was hard to do. He nodded half-heartedly and gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile… but to his dismay, Jaskier huffed.

“For Melitele’s sake, I can see the cogs turning in your head!” The bard exclaimed. “You’re doubting yourself again! Well, let me ask you this: would you want me any less if I had a small cock?”

What kind of question was that?

He frowned.

“No… but - …”

He wanted to say that that say different – because he had never expected Jaskier to have a large cock; it’s not an expectation for all human males to be well-endowed, but it is for Witchers…

“Would you love me less if I had white hair?” Jaskier asked without a blink.

“White hair?” Geralt repeated, frowning. And then he froze. “Oh…”

 _The cheeky little bastard._ Jaskier was looking at him softly, sweetly, with a smug expression, as if he was saying _“Finally!!!! You’re starting to get it - about damn time…”_

“You’re saying that you’ll still… like me," Geralt said slowly, choosing each word carefully. "Even if… if being fucked by my cock wouldn’t… please you?”

Jaskier smirked.

“Mmmh-mmmh… that’s an understatement.” The bard gave him a long look. “I love you. Nothing will change that. You’ve stolen my heart, Geralt of Rivia… I’ve felt that - I’ve known that for _years..._ ”

Geralt felt something warm expanding in his chest - like it is often described in those insipid romantic stories Jaskier likes to read out loud to him.

Hmm, maybe they weren't as far fetched as he used to think they were, because...

He truly felt so light and yet so _full_... It felt like he was floating and he never wanted this feeling to stop.

He couldn’t quite make himself look into Jaskier’s eyes… but he did the next best thing: he took Jaskier’s hand into his own and gave it a gentle squeeze, keeping his eyes there as he whispered it back to him: “I love you too.”

To his surprise, Jaskier looked surprised, and he smiled even wider. “I know. But it’s nice to hear you say it.”

“Hmm.”

 _Smug as always,_ Geralt thought fondly.

“To be perfectly candid with you – I feel too tired to do any fucking tonight, but… maybe tomorrow then?” Jaskier asked with a small, hopeful smile. “Now that you know I’ll still love you even if you _don’t_ give me Earth-shattering multiple orgasms using only your cock?”

Geralt scoffed. “Hmm, yes… Afterall – I must make up for all the anguish I’d caused – I better reassure your hole that it is _well-loved_ and desired…” He said, smirking at Jaskier, which caused the bard to shudder and shift around on his seat restlessly.

Geralt could feel the heady scent of the other’s arousal filling the air, so he knew just why he was shuffling around –

And wasn’t _that_ a gratifying thought?...

“Oh… yess… that’s – that- umm, sounds-- good!” Jaskier stammered, and Geralt smiled – he loved it when he could reduce his eloquent bard to a few stuttered out words.

He nodded.

“Sounds like we have an agreement.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So instead of the smut I wanted to write, I wrote the fluffiest chapter *everrr*.... 🤦 I'm really sorry guys!! 
> 
> But the small-cock-fucking IS on its way!!! Hang in there...! We'll see Jaskier being pummeled by Geralt's small cock yet... let's just hope and pray they get down to it, FINALLY! :)) 
> 
> Thank you for your comments, they always inspire and motivate me! :) 🥰


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: (minimal) recreational alcohol use and sex while under the influence of alcohol. (Fully consensual)

Despite feeling relieved after yesterday’s conversation, Geralt still felt nervous as hell as they were about to retire to their room for the night (at the same inn they had been staying at for a while now).

They had had dinner and Jaskier was currently playing to a small but appreciative audience, while Geralt took his leave to go up to their room and… brood.

“It will be fine. Get a grip!” He told himself for what felt like the umpteenth time.

Jaskier had assured him that everything would be okay between them… regardless of how the experiment they were about to embark on (a.k.a Geralt fucking Jaskier with all two glorious inches of his cock) would go.

Still… Geralt couldn’t help but fret as he waited for the bard to return to their room. He lighted candles, then thought better of it and extinguished some, to create a more intimate atmosphere (because that’s what Jaskier usually did, right?). Then he made a fire in the hearth… and then he opened the window, because it was getting too warm, but then he closed it because what if it’s isn’t warm enough for Jaskier’s tastes…

He was so absorbed in preparing the room that it had completely escaped his notice when the sounds of song coming from downstairs died away. It was only when Jaskier knocked on the door that he realised that the bard was finished for the night.

“Come in,” He called in what he hoped was a casual-sounding voice.

Jaskier stepped into their room and immediately stopped.

“Oh wow, it’s nice and toasty in here! Well done for warming up the room, dear heart, you know I do love it when I don’t have to worry about staying under the covers when we are having sex – it seriously impedes the view as I said last time!”

Jaskier was joking and smiling, looking completely at ease. Geralt lost his train of thought at the point where the bard said “ _well done_ ” and “ _dear heart_ ” in rapid succession. Hearing such endearments from Jaskier was becoming increasingly common, but it wasn’t getting any easier to accept them nonetheless. He ducked his head, hoping to change the topic as quickly as possible.

“Hmm…”

“Eloquent as always.” Jaskier said, smiling wistfully. He put his hands on his hips, giving Geralt a squint. “You are looking awfully stiff my dear! That just won’t do – for our first time – I would like you to be as relaxed as possible, and luckily for you, I have just the thing!”

The bard crossed the room to get to his kit. He spent a moment or too shuffling through his bag before he found what he was looking for, holding it up triumphantly.

It was a small glass bottle.

“Ta-daa! White Gull!”

Geralt felt his jaw drop.

“Where the _hell_ did you get that, Jaskier?”

“I have my connections…” Jaskier said smugly. Geralt crossed his arms, hoping to convey that he wouldn’t accept that as an answer – if Jaskier was associated with some shady people on the black market, Gods forbid…

The bard saw his questioning look and he held up his hands. “All right, all right! It’s from Yennefer. It was a fair exchange, I gave her some advice and she got me this in exchange. I figured it would come in handy one day if you wanted to… loosen up a little bit.”

Huh. Geralt felt surprise and… some sort of warm fuzzy feeling flood him at Jaskier’s admission. That the bard had the chance to ask for something from the sorceress and he used his wish to get something that would only benefit Geralt… that was curious…

Jaskier seemed to take his silence as hesitation, because he lost some of his enthusiasm.

“It’s safe as long as you only drink a little bit – right? I don’t want you to get drunk, just to feel as if you were a human who had a glass of wine – you know, a little bit tipsy maybe? Hmm- but is that even possible with White Gull…?”

“Don’t overthink it.” Geralt finally said, taking mercy on the bard. “Yes, if I have a sip or two, that should effect me similarly as a glass of wine would affect a human. That’s… not a bad idea, actually. Thank you.”

Jaskier flushed a little bit, as he stepped closer to him, handing him the little bottle.

“You are very welcome! I hope it’s legit – I mean – it’s from Yen, so errrm… maybe sniff it before you down it?”

Geralt actually smiled for the first time this evening at that. “Good point.”

The White Gull was legit. It was really pure stuff as well, as far as he could tell. He took a sip and he could immediately feel the satisfying burn filling him with liquid courage. It brought back nice memories: of sitting around a campfire with Eskel and Lambert and trading stories about the Path. Memories of their youth…

He took a few more sips, stopping only when Jaskier held out his hand.

“All right, slow down, there is no hurry! Maybe wait a bit to see how it affects you before you drink more? Yennefer said half this bottle should be enough to get you good and drunk – and I don’t want you _that_ drunk if we’re going to do this!" Jaskier babed, fretting. "I _don't_ want to be thrown up on mid-sex- thank you very much…”

"Speaking from experience?” Geralt asked – and okay, _yes,_ shit – the stuff was working.

He could feel a smug smile spreading across his face as he took in Jaskier’s indignant expression.

“I am _refusing_ to comment on this, this-- !! Accusation--- But, well – so apparently the White Gull had done it’s job sooo… how about we continue this on the bed?”

Suddenly, even that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. “Sure.”

Jaskier led him over to the bed and Geralt went willingly. The whole room was warm, mellow and filled with colours. He was particularly fascinated by the way the firelight reflected off of Jaskier’s hair and eyes - making his hair appear even darker than it actually was, and shifting his blue eyes into hazel. He looked.. almost ethereal, as he peeled himself out of his doublet – looking almost self-conscious, as he became aware of Geralt’s observant gaze upon him – although he pressed on, seeming determined to finish his job of undressing himself before Geralt had even started. His breeches were toed off next and then his socks and then it was only his chemise, which he unbuttoned before he lifted it off over his head carefully – and then he laid back on the pillows, giving Geralt a nervous but clearly practised and highly seductive look.

“Like what you’re seeing?”

Despite himself, Geralt smirked.

“Very much.”

“Hmm…” Jaskier bit his lip, eyeing him meaningfully. “You are still overdressed though…”

“All in good time,” Geralt replied easily, leaning into Jaskier’s space to kiss him.

Jaskier mewled incoherently, arching into him. Knowing what they were about to do – it was a heady sensation. Now that he was a bit more relaxed, he was beginning to enjoy the thought of being the aggressor – being the one in charge, for a change – in every sense of the word.

Yes – tonight, it would be Jaskier who would be under him. He would be the one making Jaskier feel good… and he knew he could do that, he knew a dozen ways – had _done it_ a dozen ways before -even without using his cock…

But _now_ he would get to do that as well which was… exciting. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to do that. To get Jaskier hungry and ready for his cock, like the bard liked to do to him…

He gave Jaskier’s lower lip a gentle little nip, while he enveloped his cock into the warm embrace of his palm – and was gratified by the wounded little noise that spilled from Jaskier’s lip as a result.

“ _Fuck_ , Geralt!”

“Hmmm..” He purred in contentment. “Is that what you want? Are you such a cock-hungry slut that I’ve barely even touched you and yet here you are -already eager and already _gagging_ for it? What do you want, Jaskier?”

Jaskier’s pupils widened visibly at the Witcher’s words, and he cursed colourfully.

“Fuck – fuck! Your – your cock! I want your cock! Please, Geralt – please give it to me! -pleaseplease…”

Geralt smiled at his lover fondly. 

“All in good time… Let me prepare you first…” He nudged Jaskier, urging him to bend his legs, granting him easy access. He grabbed the vial of oil he had hidden under the pillow in preparation earlier, and he opened it quickly to dribble a generous amount over his fingers.

He loved this part – spreading Jaskier open on his fingers. The man was so eager for it – so willing, so impatient…

“Get on with it!” Jaskier demanded, when Geralt didn’t penetrate him straight away, using his oiled up fingers to caress and tease the puckered little opening instead. When Geralt didn’t relent, the bard’s demands turned into little grunts. “Geralt! Please. Fuck – fuck – fuck!!”

He dragged the moment out as long as he could, enjoying Jaskier’s breathless moans as he tortured him by denying the feeling of fullness he craved, but taking his cock into his mouth instead, and continuing to tease and caress his perineum with well-practiced movements – pressing just where he knew Jaskier liked it best…

Within minutes, Geralt was shocked to notice that the bard was getting close to crying actual tears of frustration – so he finally took pity on him, sinking a finger into him without warning. Jaskier gave out a loud shriek.

“Jaskier! Noise---”

This was an inn afterall…

Jaskier nodded, putting both of his hands over his mouth – and fuck, that was a sight. Knowing that he was causing the bard to loose control and fall apart – _already_ – was very gratifying indeed.

He continued stretching him, using first one and then two fingers. When Jaskier was taking two of his fingers easily, he deemed the bard ready and he arranged him on his hands and knees, with his body bent forward and spread flush on the mattress. This was a pose Geralt enjoyed himself when he was receiving so he hoped that Jaskier would enjoy it as well and – well, he calculated that this should be a good pose for penetrating Jaskier as deeply as he possibly could.

He oiled himself up haphazardly – his neglected cock standing rock-hard and starving for attention.

Fuck, he hoped he wouldn’t come too soon…

“Ready?” He asked patting Jaskier’s back gently.

“Yes!” The bard trilled back immediately, canting his hips up in invitation. It was a tantalising sight…

And for the first time in his life, Geralt felt distinctly grateful that his cock was on the smaller side because he felt like he would physically _die_ if he had to delay putting his cock into Jaskier even just a minute longer.

He lined himself up and pushed inwards carefully…

A lot of things happened at once.

Jaskier moaned, and Geralt hissed – feeling unexpected _amazing_ tightness engulfing him.

 _Fuck!_ He had never thought it would feel quite like this… so different from a mouth or a hand…

“Yes! Fuck, Geralt, yes, fuck me!” Jaskier chanted, beginning to rock back and forth, trying to push Geralt into deepening his thrusts.

“Tell me when the angle is right!” Geralt quipped, putting a firm hand onto Jaskier’s lower waist to encourage him to sink even lower, thereby changing their pose subtely.

“What?” Jaskier asked back. “Oh, right! Fuck, Geralt, it’s already good – I don’t care if we don’t find it… Mhh… yes, just fuck me… OH HOLY SHIT FUCK – THERE, THERE, _THERE!!!_ ”

Geralt smirked smugly as he knew he found what he had been looking for – that spot that felt so good when Jaskier’s cock brushed up against it within him…

And apparently, he could do it as well!

He could have wept in relief, but instead he focused on staying on the right course, keeping the same rhythm and the same position they had taken up: with Jaskier still on his knees, his upper body resting on his elbows, and his chest brushing against the sheets from time to time as he swayed with Geralt’s thrusts, his lovely perfect bum tilted up like an offering... And fuck, as Geralt looked down at where there bodies were joined, he almost came from that sight alone: just seeing where Jaskier’s body was enveloping him made the sensation feel even more intense and tight- so unbearably tight -- _perfect_ …

“Jaskier…! Not gonna last long--- are you..?” He grunted between thrusts, hoping that Jaskier was as close as he was…

“Fuck, yes… yes, I will!...” Jaskier’s body seized up, his movements becoming ragged and his breath hitching in that tell-tale way. It was wild and sudden when his orgasm finally hit him, signalled by his back arching and a breathy whine. “ _Geralt!!_ Oh fuck fuck fuck…!!”

Geralt hoped that he wouldn’t cause the bard discomfort by continuing to thrust within him but he was so close as well... He kept up his tempo, watching out for any sign of over-sensitivity or pain from the bard, but he could see none, so he allowed himself to focus on his own body's urges at the moment.

He dragged his hands down Jaskier's sides and then further up, focusing on the globes of his arse, spreading them slightly, so he had an even better view of where they were joined... And he began to pull his cock almost all the way out and then back again; Jaskier's hole seeming to grasp at it, swallowing it greedily...

“Yes, fuck, Geralt! Ahh… come inside me!” Jaskier panted, rocking back and squeezing around him tightly, positively _milking_ his cock – and that was his undoing: his orgasm shot through him like lightning hitting a tree, leaving him dazed and breathless as he stilled, his cock buried to the the hilt inside of Jaskier's body. He could feel warmth pooling around the head of his cock where his seed had spilled; deep in Jaskier's ass...

Even after he had finished coming, he could still feel dizzying little aftershocks coursing through him, whenever Jaskier's body gave an unexpected twitch; the bard looking boneless and sated.

He pulled himself out carefully and collapsed next to Jaskier as soon as he got his bearings back.

Jaskier snuggled up to him, putting his head onto his chest as was becoming his habit lately. (A habit Geralt was maybe-perhaps _not_ discouraging per se...)

“Mhhh..” He bard hummed. “That was something else.” Suddenly, he chuckled. “And you didn’t even want to try this! Now do you see--?”

Geralt kissed the bard to shut him up. Thankfully, it worked – Jaskier becoming thoroughly distracted while they kissed.

When they finally separated, there was a brief, comfortable silence between them, until Geralt cleared his throat.

“Hmm – was that… truly good for you?”

Jaskier gave him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me…?!” He glanced at Geralt and seeing the Witcher’s serious expression, he schooled his own features as well. “ _Yes_ – empathic yes to that! And you will have to do that for many-many nights now, because I’ve been woefully and unjustly deprived of being stuffed full of cock lately and this needs to be remedied or else… No – seriously, Geralt! I – I’ve missed this…” Jaskier said, giving him an honest, reassuring smile.

Geralt frowned. “I’m sorry I was so… difficult about it…”

“It’s okay! It’s all resolved now, isn’t it? And I couldn’t be happier…” Jaskier said, sighing dreamily, which made Geralt chuckle. The bard huffed indignantly. “Oh, that’s not nice! Fuck you… yeah, yeah… I’m high on the feeling of having had an amazing orgasm from being dicked within an inch of my life… so be it!” The bard smirked before his expression turned sombre all of a sudden and he looked back at Geralt. “Was it, umm… was it as good for you too?...”

“Very.” Geralt replied without hesitation. “It – exceeded all my expectations. I’m… I’m glad you’ve convinced me to try it at least…” Geralt could feel his ears heating up from embarrassment, but he forced himself to say the words – because fuck, Jaskier _deserved_ to know how fucking grateful Geralt was and how truly and utterly mind-blowing this had been for him… and he would be damned if he let his shitty communication skills stop him.

Apparently he had said the right thing, because he was rewarded with a tight hug from the bard and a barely audible, but very heated and heart-felt “ _thank you_ ”. He squeezed Jaskier back, feeling tears gather in the corners of his eyes. For the first time in ages, he let them be, instead of wiping them away immediately.

He just closed his eyes and allowed Jaskier’s scent to wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY that you had to wait this long for an update! I am way busier now that lockdown has lifted. All good, just work and real-life-stuff means I have less time to write - but I'll do my best to update at least weekly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My birthday gift for the lovely Maruka. Happy Birthday, my Dear! :) <3
> 
> Also WARNING: all links contain NSFW pictures!! (pictures of various sex toys) - I have linked some sex toy images to clarify what I am referring to. View these at your own discretion.

It was well-known in the Northern parts of Kaedwen (close to Kaer Morhen) that there was a tree that produced a precious, flexible sort of material when its bark was nicked. It was also known that some of the local women would collect this, re-heat it over a pot of boiling water, and then pour it into moulds and let solidify again…

And if the moulds just so _happened_ to be phallus-shaped – well that was nobody’s business but their own.

When travelling merchants came, the women would line up and sell their [goods](https://d3f650ayx9w00n.cloudfront.net/940/32729-10.jpg) to the merchants, who would take them to the Southern kingdoms where they would fetch a pretty coin. It was a considerable income for them to make these ‘pleasure devices’.

The existence of tree sap phalluses was common knowledge among Witchers: passed down from older novice Witchers to the younger ones generation after generation – which was no coincidence. If teenage boys were usually horny, it was safe to say that young Witchers were (on average) _twice as horny._

According to a legend, many centuries ago some novice Witcher in Kaer Morhen had invented tree sap _pussies_ (a long, tight [tube](https://d3f650ayx9w00n.cloudfront.net/940/74214-030.jpg) that could accommodate a Witcher’s cock) – and since then, these were every young Witcher’s most prized possession.

Geralt had had one too - of course, because his own penis size was _so_ different from every other Witchers (size-wise), he had needed to create his own fake pussy: by re-melting another one and pouring it into his own smaller, custom-fitted mould.

Once he had created one that he was happy with, he couldn’t resist showing it off to Eskel, and they sort of made a competition out of it: constantly trying to create even better “pussies”, by improving their design: adding ridges to their mould’s inside, so the inside of the fake pussy would be alternately smooth, ribbed, or studded; they experimented with the optimal rate of tightness (too tight and one would get chafed, not tight enough and the pussy wasn’t as stimulating) and so on. Of course they couldn’t try each other’s “pussies”, because of their size difference, but they rated each other’s creations fairly based on a pre-agreed point system. They had “pussy” making down to an art.

It was a few weeks into sleeping with Jaskier when Geralt remembered all of this, when he began to wonder what it would be like to stuff Jaskier _truly_ full.

Geralt had accepted that Jaskier was clearly pleased with his size: he enjoyed giving Geralt blow-jobs, relishing the fact that it didn’t hurt his singing voice, unlike other long cocks that would bump his throat: Geralt’s fit just perfectly inside of Jaskier’s mouth. And he also liked being fucked by Geralt: since they had been fucking regularly, Jaskier needed less and less prep: Geralt could usually just slick him up and slip into him and Jaskier would moan like a two-penny whore because he loved the stretch and the burn of the initial penetration.

Which made Geralt wonder… He wanted to give Jaskier even more of _that_.

He debated fisting – that was definitely something he would have been willing to try if the bard was interested – but he wanted to start with something smaller. Something that’s size could be gradually increased…

And then he remembered the tree sap phalluses – making a hollowed out phallus (that he could wear like a [sheath](https://i2.wp.com/www.lovingjoy.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/n10726-loving-joy-mighty-penis-extension-sleeve-with-ball-loop-3_1.jpg?fit=500%2C500&ssl=1) or a [sleeve](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Penis_sleeve_2.jpg) over his cock) should surely be _possible!_

It may take some trial and error, because the tightness had to be right (so the phallus wouldn’t slip off while he was fucking Jaskier with it), and of course, he would put some ridges onto the [inside](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1235/8006/products/leluv-handheld-male-masturbator-flesh-insides-text_4f742529-8dd7-42f5-a2f0-54a39712a20e_large.jpg?v=1578126010) just how he liked it inside his fake pussies during his youth – but he also wanted to make it slightly bumpy and textured on the [outside](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1819/4705/products/showpicture_21_d78137fa-f02e-4271-8b9e-d455454e5a4f.jpg?v=1571439761), so that it would be even more pleasurable for Jaskier as well.

Geralt got to work.

* * *

Two weeks later, he had a finished product: his own, custom-made cock sheath.

The thing was… big. Not ridiculously large, but easily twice Geralt’s own size in length and one and a half times that in girth. It would be a good stretch for Jaskier to begin with, and if he was into it, maybe they could even size up gradually: Geralt could make increasingly bigger “cocks” to fuck Jaskier with, until he could – perhaps- even take Geralt’s fist one day.

Geralt felt himself growing hard in his breeches just from thinking about it.

* * *

All that was left was to sell the idea to the bard. He had to be careful to present the concept to Jaskier in the right way. The bard was fiercely loving and protective (sometimes overbearingly so) – so Geralt knew that it may take some convincing to reassure Jaskier that _yes, he, Geralt is okay with wearing this “fake cock” – no, he isn’t ashamed of his size (anymore)_ , and _yes, he would like to fuck Jaskier with it_ if he were gracious enough to allow it.

Surprisingly, it went more smoothly than he had expected it to go.

One morning after breakfast, when Jaskier was in a good mood, he just called him over to his “work corner”.

“I wanted to show you something. I have been working on this for a few weeks…” He said simply, taking the cock sheath out and putting it down onto the table for Jaskier’s inspection.

The bard’s brows furrowed for a second, and Geralt’s heart jumped.

But then Jaskier leant in closer, took the flexible sheath into his hands… he looked at it, and _inside_ of it, and then ( _fuck_ ) he pushed one of his fingers into it, his mouth opening in a silent ‘ _o_ ’ or surprise…

“Oh sweet Melitele’s tit-fuck, _Geralt!_ ” The bard blurted, sounding choked. He looked at Geralt with a wild expression. “Is this what I _think_ it is…?”

Geralt frowned.

“If you think that it’s a sheath that I can pull onto my cock and fuck you with it – then yes, it is.” The Witcher replied non-committally.

Jaskier actually flailed.

“Oh Gods – fuck me with it..? Yes – yes, hell yes!” He said, before he paused, flushing. “I mean, umm – if you want to, then _yes -_ I would love it if you would – use this on me…” Jaskier babbled, looking endearingly bashful.

It was a strangely heady feeling, to know that he had managed to impress the sexually adventurous bard with his idea. The knowledge filled Geralt with considerable pride.

“Great, because that’s what I plan on doing tonight,” He replied, shooting the bard a wolfish grin.

Jaskier looked at him in horror.

“Tonight? Do we _have to_ wait until then…?” He asked, biting his lip anxiously, his legs crossing over each other in a tell-tale way that spoke of arousal… and indeed, Geralt could smell it on him: the musky scent of the bard’s arousal was practically wafting in the air by now…

Jaskier must have seen the way the Witcher’s own eyes had darkened with desire, for he knew he had won: he stood up, sitting down into Geralt’s lap and pulling him into a tight embrace, panting against his ear hotly.

Geralt swore.

“I was supposed to go to the blacksmith to retrieve Roach’s new horse shoes—”

“It can wait, I remember the blacksmith said you are welcome to come by anytime until mid-afternoon,” Jaskier murmured soothingly.

Geralt sighed, but he didn’t argue.

“You’re incorrigible.” He grumbled instead.

“You _love it_ ,” Jaskier retorted with utter conviction, biting his earlobe gently. Geralt hummed at pleasurable feeling the contact elicited.

He was painfully hard in his trousers now, and Jaskier was rutting his cock against his abs while simultaneously rubbing his arse all over Geralt’s clothed erection.

All of the reasons why they _shouldn’t_ try the cock sheath right now seemed inconsequential all of a sudden.

“Fine, get on the bed then!” Geralt grunted.

Jaskier hastened to obey, almost tripping over his own foot in the process.

Geralt grabbed the toy and the slick he usually used with it, as well as the oil he would need to prepare Jaskier.

Jaskier was already half-naked by the time Geralt sat down onto the bed next to him, and he was currently working on unlacing his breeches.

“Fuck – Geralt!” He bit out between pants and curses. “How – how did you…? Know, _where_ did you learn to do that? And at such an amazing level? I mean, that’s the prettiest cock sheath slash fake pussy I’d ever seen!”

Geralt shrugged as he made quick work of undressing himself.

“We all did it at Kaer Morhen. And… well. It wasn’t as if I could have borrowed one of the other Witcher’s… toys…” Geralt said, wincing slightly.

Jaskier froze. “Oh right! Shit, sorry… but err – well! That’s – it certainly came in handy right now!” The bard added, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Geralt huffed. “You seem quite eager for it. Have you ever used one before?”

Jaskier was fully naked now and as he spoke, he laid back on the pillows, propping himself up on his elbows, so he had a good view of Geralt, as he started to stroke myself.

“Mmmh… yes, I – yes, I’ve used fake pussies before, and I – that time I told you about the exceptionally talented lady who fucked me? She used a cock made of a similar material…” Jaskier said, seeming to grow even harder at the memory.

 _Oh that’s right._ Geralt smirked.

“What was that like?” He asked casually, while he propped up one of Jaskier’s legs so he could lie between them and he would have easy access to his hole. He pushed an oil slicked finger to Jaskier’s puckered entrance, before he looked up at the bard. “Hmm? I’ve always wondered.”

“Fuck!” Jaskier cursed as one of Geralt’s fingers pushed into him slowly but firmly. “It – it’s quite hard to – to _talk_ when you’re – doing—that!! Oh hell---!”

The bard’s voice hitched and jumped whenever Geralt would move his fingers.

“Whatever do you mean? You seem to be talking just fine… tell me – how did it feel when she fucked you with her _cock?_ ” Geralt asked, emphasising his last words on purpose – earning a strangled grunt from Jaskier. “Hmm – was it bigger or smaller than the one I’m about to put into you, I wonder…?”

“Smaller!” Jaskier ground out, his face screwed up in pleasure. Geralt chose that moment to push his finger deeper, stimulating the bard in earnest now as he began to drag his finger in and out. “Fuck – yes, yes!”

“Oh, it was smaller?” Geralt asked back, ignoring the bard’s pleas for more. “Hmm, mustn’t have been much of a challenge then.”

“No – it – wasn’t,” Jaskier replied, panting.

“And how did it _feel?_ ” Geralt asked smugly.

“I – I don’t know…? _Gahh!_ Oh fuck, Geralt, _please_ put another finger in me – I can take it! Please!” Jaskier said, looking down at the Witcher pleadingly.

“Tell me how it felt to be fucked by her, and I’ll give you that finger.”

Jaskier groaned.

“Oh—fuck-fuckfuck! I… it was… it was soft to the touch- incredibly soft like velvet, but nice and firm… inside.. and umm… it… I – her’s had a [hooked end](https://contestimg.wish.com/api/webimage/591ef36da9651b77abfc663b-large.jpg?cache_buster=a2addfb2dc0f030017351884f3c5314f), like an egg, that she could-- slip into her pussy, to- to… oh fuck!!”

Geralt chose that moment to reward Jaskier with another finger, knocking the air out of him.

“To hold the cock in place while she fucked you with the other end?” Geralt asked helpfully, as he started to vibrate his fingers gently.

“Oh fuck- fuck!! Yes, like that!” Jaskier gasped. “Oh umm – yess, she.. she didn’t use a harness, just that.. and… oh fuck – and.. she said she had used it on her maid… she took her maidenhead with it…”

Geralt’s eyes widened at the unexpected turn in the story and he felt his cock give a painful throb. “Oh fuck…” He cursed, feeling affected now himself. He tried to get some friction against his aching cock by rutting against the mattress, as both of his hands were occupied: one holding Jaskier’s thigh, the other two-fingers deep in the bard’s ass.

“Yes!” Jaskier gasped. “Oh – she was amazing! And the way she fucked me – she called me a good boy and fuckkk.. made me lick the cock before she fucked me with it… she made me _earn_ it…”

“Do you like that?” Geralt asked, his eye glinting dangerously. “Hmm… maybe I should make you do that too… Since you are such a slut for it…”

“Ahhhh, fuck,” Jaskier cried. “Geralt -careful I’ll----!”

Geralt stopped his fingers quickly, using his other hand to stop Jaskier’s hand on his own cock, so the bard was forced to stop just at the cusp of his orgasm – he must have been very close to tipping over because it took him a good ten seconds before he began to breathe again.

“Oh fuck, that was close!” Jaskier panted. “I- fuck – I think I’m ready…”

Geralt was inclined to agree. He had two fingers buried to the hilt in his bard. He had never put more than two fingers inside of him as prep before.

But well… they were about to put something larger than Geralt’s own cock inside there, so he thought – it was only fair to prepare him a bit more…

Making sure his ring finger was nice and slick as well, Geralt slipped that one up to Jaskier’s entrance as well, pushing it gently against his rim.

“One more,” He said in warning. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Jaskier bit his lip and nodded eagerly. There was a rapturous expression on his face when Geralt began to push that additional finger inside, stopping once the first knuckle was in. His fingers were quite burly, so he didn’t want to go too quick, lest he injure Jaskier by the sudden stretch.

“Are you okay?” Geralt asked, voice coming out strained from concentration and his own arousal.

“Gods, yes,” Jaskier breathed. “More than – okay… you can – give more---”

As soon as Jaskier gave him the ‘ok’, he moved his finger a bit deeper, slipping the other ones out slightly, so that the was easier. Jaskier keened, and Geralt was scared for a second that he had hurt the bard so he stopped. To his surprise, Jaskier’s hand on his cock began to work in a quicker rhythm and he began to rock against his hand, fucking himself on Geralt’s fingers as much as he could.

“Yes – Geralt, more, please!! It’s _very good_ — _Oh, fuck!!_ ”

Jaskier cursed when Geralt finally began to move his fingers again. Geralt was amazed to find that suddenly, there seemed to be more space for his fingers to move, and he was able to move them apart slightly, stretching the bard’s entrance even wider, so he could almost see between them…

“Oh fuck!” Jaskier cried. “Yes – that’s good!”

Geralt felt his cock throbbing, and he like he could come if by just rutting firmly against the covers by this point… Maybe another time, he would do that, but for today – if they wanted to do this, he had to stop fingering Jaskier, he decided.

He pulled his fingers out gently, and wiped his hand before taking up the toy with shaking fingers.

“What position would you like?” He asked gently, sending the bard a quick glance as he slicked up the sheath from the inside.

Jaskier was eyeing him with keen interest.

“Fuck- umm! Well, that’s quite big, and I haven’t taken a cock that large in a while, so – hands and knees – that’s the easiest--?” The bard said.

“Good,” Geralt said, nodding. He began to slip the sheath onto his cock and there came the first hurdle, because it was _tight._

Tight and… very-very nice feeling.

He cursed, but managed to get the sheath on without coming. By the time he opened his eyes again, Jaskier had gotten onto his hands and knees, and was looking back at him over his shoulder.

“Please, please, Geralt! Put it in me, fuck me – I’m ready,” The bard’s breath hitched, as he felt the tip of the fake cock touching his rim. “— _Oh yesss!_ ”

Jaskier moaned as he was penetrated; Geralt pushing in slowly, in tiny increments.

“Fuck!” Geralt cursed as well, as he felt the tightness and warmth of Jaskier’s body enveloping him. He had expected the sensation to feel similar to fucking a fake pussy – which was delightful, so he was fine with that – but apparently, he had been _wrong_ , because this was… very different.

Good different.

He could still feel Jaskier’s body gripping him, making the fit even tighter and less… predictable. It already felt intense, and he was barely even moving at this point: because he wanted to give Jaskier time to adjust to the girth…

It would be hard to last longer than a _minute_ at this rate –

“Fuck – Jaskier!” Geralt ground out. “Touch yourself – I won’t— won’t be long—”

Jaskier nodded, apparently on with the programme, thank fuck, as Geralt began to move slowly, rhythmically inside of him.

The bard’s moaned loudly. “Oh fuck – just like that! _That’s---!_ ”

Geralt never found out what ‘that’ was, because Jaskier was cut off by a loud groan, that sounded positively _pleased_ , so he decided that he must be doing well. He started moving a bit more quickly, snapping his hips a few times, to test if the sheath would slip off or not – but it didn’t seem to move, he noticed with some relief.

“Fuck, Geralt – like that! Fuck me, pound me, please!” Jaskier said, almost sobbing in pleasure as he began to rock back into Geralt’s hardening thrusts.

Geralt took his boyfriend’s request to heart and obliged him – fucking into him at a faster, tighter rhythm.

He could feel the moment Jaskier began to approach his orgasm, because the pressure around his cock became even more intense; Jaskier’s muscles clenching and contracting around him. Geralt moved through the bard’s orgasm, continuing to fuck into him, until he collapsed in a sated heap.

And then Jaskier grabbed his hand, and pulled Geralt over his back, so he was covering him as he fucked him.

“Yes- yes, Geralt – fuck – you are amazing, _oh Gods!_ ”

It was Jaskier’s high pitched keen that triggered Geralt’s own orgasm as he snapped his hip once more and then stayed buried in the bard, as he rode out his orgasm, feeling the world go blurry around him – the pleasure erupting from his cock and flowing through his whole body in waves.

“Fuck!” He cursed when he came back to reality, noticing that he was still tightly enveloped in the cock sheath and Jaskier’s arse – the combined pressure of which was fast becoming too much for his sensitive post-orgasmic cock.

He pulled out of Jaskier gently, and collapsed on the bed next to him, taking off the cock sheath with care. The ridges on the inside felt wonderful as he slipped his cock out of the contraption, but he was glad when it finally slid free. He noted with some surprise that his cock looked larger than it usually did- likely from the suction of the sheath. And it was still rock hard… Gods, no wonder the sex had felt as intense as it did.

Geralt noted absently that Jaskier was looking at him with a concerned expression.

“You okay?” The bard said, motioning towards Geralt’s hard cock.

Geralt groaned.

“Yeah – just… hmm. Seems the cock sheath has sort of trapped the blood inside, so… it may take a while to go down…”

He was surprised when Jaskier broke out in a laugh. He scoffed.

“So much for empathy…”

“Oh - fuck, sorry!” Jaskier panted, between laughs. “Oh shit – just – this is incredible! _You_ – you are incredible…” The bard said, looking at him with a besotted expression. “Oh seven hells… Well, my arse can’t take another pounding, but I could offer my mouth, or hands perhaps…?”

Jaskier asked, looking at him sweetly – clearly eager to help, not because he felt he owed Geralt anything, but because he _wanted to_ …

It still felt too good to be true, but Geralt allowed himself to believe it – just for now. For this moment.

He could get used it, perhaps… If he practised it: letting himself feel the warmth as he looked into Jaskier’s eyes; as he took in his fond expression; the gentleness of his face…

“In a minute.” Geralt said, holding his bard just a touch tighter.

Jaskier snuggled his face into the crook of his shoulder and they stayed like that for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand this is the end - for now... :) 
> 
> (I may or may not write another chapter with fisting in it, if there is interest in that? ^^ Let me know if you would like that. )
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! :) Feel free to write a prompt if you would like me to write a story based on your idea (whether it is smut or a story with plot - all prompts are welcome!) 
> 
> Heads up: I am working on a Geraskier Coffeeshop AU at the moment! :) Stay tuned for that.


	8. Chapter 8

They’ve played quite a lot with the cock sheath; Geralt had fucked Jaskier with it repeatedly and they even created an alternative version that was slimmer but longer – which had been very interesting!

Jaskier was able to wear them as well, and he had donned it a few times to fuck Geralt senseless with it. It was gratifying to see the great White Wolf begging and writhing for mercy…

* * *

But when it came down to it, he found that actually - he missed Geralt’s cock.

 _Just_ his cock. Nothing else.

* * *

So on one particular evening, when Geralt turned to him with that lovely open expression and he asked Jaskier “ _what do you want?_ ”…

“I want you to fuck me with your cock again if that’s okay. We haven’t done it like that in a while and umm… I’m missing it.”

Geralt seemed surprised, but he recovered quickly.

“Oh – yeah, sure if – if that’s what you want…?”

“It is,” Jaskier confirmed, smirking. “Mmmh, I think you’ve gotten quite good at using your cock since we’ve been experimenting with… all this gear. I reckon you can hold off from coming _way_ longer than you could’ve in the beginning…” He whispered, practically purring in Geralt’s ear, who shuddered.

“Hmm, only one way to tell.”

Jaskier grinned eagerly at that.

They undressed themselves quickly and efficiently, but once they were in bed, they allowed themselves to just enjoy each other’s company. Their touches were slow and languid – reaching for the spots that they knew would set the other’s body aflame with desire.

Geralt smattered Jaskier’s neck with featherlight kisses, leading up to his ear, nibbling on his earlobe gently when he got there. Jaskier groaned from the heavenly sensation – because fuck, his neck and his ear were sensitive and Geralt fucking _knew_ that… and he was smirking as he was kissing his ear.

He didn’t know how he knew that, he just… did.

So Jaskier gave just as good as he got: biting Geralt’s neck lightly but with intent, just the way he knew Geralt preferred it. The effect was instantaneous: Geralt’s hips stuttered and he gave a deep, shuddering groan.

“Fuck, I could come just listening to you,” Jaskier whispered heatedly.

“We could try that one day,” Geralt shot back mirthfully.

Jaskier scoffed in outrage. “Not tonight!”

Geralt smirked. “Hmm, not tonight…”

And with that, they continued kissing and touching each other until neither of them could wait anymore. It was Jaskier who caved first, looking down at Geralt who was currently planting kisses on his abdomen, close to his belly button and groping Jaskier’s chest at the same time…

“Mmmmh – Geralt!” Jaskier sighed. “Oh fuck – please just- fuck me! Put it in me...!”

Geralt looked up at him playfully.

“Hmm, shouldn’t I prepare you first?”

Jaskier smirked. “You know that I’m a slut and I like a bit of pain with my pleasure… so no! Put – it- in -me!” He repeated again, enunciating the words as he writhed under Geralt’s talented hands.

To his credit, the Witcher obeyed – grabbing the lube and slicking up his cock quickly. Jaskier turned onto his side – because lately he had discovered the joy of being spooned by Geralt while they were fucking and it was quickly becoming one of his favourite positions – it was just a great pose, and made it easy for Jaskier to find his prostate.

Before sticking his cock in him, Geralt being Geralt – brought his still slick fingers to Jaskier’s hole, sticking the tip of one finger into him gently, just to ensure that his hole was well-coated…

“Come on!” Jaskier mewled. “I can take it! Please, please— _fuckk!!”_

Jaskier keened when Geralt finally speared him on his cock. It was always so satisfying – that brief burn he felt when he was first breached…

Although Geralt’s cock wasn’t particularly long, it had a nice girth – which Jaskier had grown to appreciate of late.

Very much so.

It was just perfect. When Geralt first thrust his cock into him, Jaskier always felt like he was re-moulded. It filled him so perfectly and _snugly_ … There was always a satisfying stretch.

He didn’t hesitate to say it so – muttering Geralt’s praises as the Witcher worked his cock into him.

Geralt growled in reply, grabbing Jaskier’s hips more firmly, and practically dragging him down onto his cock so that it was seated in him to the hilt…

“Oh fuck, yes!!! Geralt- that’s – amazing!” Jaskier writhed out, shuddering as Geralt’s cock prodded against that sweet spot inside of him just right. “Yes! Like that! Ahh!”

And Geralt – bless him – he understood, and he made sure to keep the same angle as much as he could… and even when he veered off-target by accident (side-tracked by Jaskier’s vigorous hip-rolls), they were able to find that glorious aim again… and it was just as amazing the second time around.

It was so _good_. Jaskier felt like every piece of his body was electrified – singing with pleasure… He never wanted it to end – he just wanted to stay in Geralt’s arms, with his cock stroking that perfect spot inside of him… He pleaded with him to “ _slow down”,_ and then to “ _speed up_ ”, “ _yes yes yes more_ ”…

But soon, it all got too much. Jaskier could feel it that he couldn’t deny his own release much longer – especially when Geralt suddenly changed angle and forced his cock even more firmly against Jaskier’s sweet spot.

“Oh Melitele’s sweet holy cunt!” Jaskier cried, growing rigid. “Geralt that’s divine! Stay like that – fuck fuck!!!”

With an undignified shriek- Jaskier was coming, bucking wildly on Geralt’s cock. His Witcher wasn’t far behind him either, apparently, because he thrust into him a few more times, and then stilled with a sudden punched out noise.

They stayed together like that – connected by Geralt’s cock, their limbs entangled in a sweaty messy heap.

“Fuck!” Jaskier spoke first, chuckling. “Sweet sweet Melitele – Geralt… I think that was the best fuck of my life…”

Geralt smiled in reply. “Hmm… might need to cross-check that with you later on… you tend to speak in superlatives---”

Jaskier huffed. “Okay, fine! I dunno, but – Top Three for sure! Sweet holy Gods—you are incredible, my love,” He said, looking at Geralt with a tired and well-sated smile. “Truly. Fuck.”

Geralt seemed to bask in the praise, smiling smugly. “Hmmm. Good.”

“Good?” Jaskier asked, smirking. “What do you mean?”

“It’s good that you’ve enjoyed that because I am happy to be at your service – anytime.” He replied, flashing Jaskier a wolfish grin.

Jaskier pretended to shudder and recoil jokingly.

"Pfft! Have mercy - my prostate is out of commission for the rest of today.”

Geralt growled, hugging Jaskier possessively.

“Hmm. Good. Only me.”

Jaskier blinked in surprise at his Witcher’s sudden territoriality, but he gave into it with pleasure.

“Of course I’m only yours, you oaf… I’d never want to sleep with anyone else now. You’ve ruined me.” He murmured truthfully.

Geralt looked up at him and gave him a sound kiss on a mouth – and the bard decided that he was the luckiest man alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! :) I hope you've enjoyed this last cute, smutty chapter! :3 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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